Consequences
by Victoria Chrystallis
Summary: When Rufus Shinra forced his secretary, Tifa Lockhart, to be his wife to officially be president, he did not think that she would rebel and play against him in his own game. She had turned his simple game into a competition of ego, power, and sensuality. He wasn't going to let her get her way. Who's going to win this game?
1. The Planet's Most Eligible Bachelor

**CONSEQUENCES**

* * *

**Summary:**

"You help me, I help you. This isn't an offer you can refuse, my darling Miss Lockhart."

Upon Old Man's death, it was already expected that Rufus would take over the company. If only it wasn't for the Old Man's damned last will stating that Rufus could only assume presidency after marriage. And so, Rufus Shinra, the heir to the world, needed a wife. His biddable secretary, Tifa Lockhart, was the perfect candidate. Tifa, fresh out of a destructive relationship, is outraged, but he sets her world on fire with the slightest touch. Would they be able to maintain the line separating pretense and reality to the end, or would the line break?

* * *

**Victoria's Blurb:**

_Hiiiiiii! _Since my baby, The Celebrity and the Pizza Delivery Boy is now almost all grown up – _finished, accomplished – _I thought I'd go back to another pairing I really enjoy imagining together. If anyone read Consequences back in 2011-2012, I owe you guys an apology for suddenly removing it. But hey, it's back! And I sure hope to heck that you enjoy this as much as you did the first. I've changed some things about the story - I hope you like the changes. Comments are welcome, always. Very much appreciated.

* * *

**Important!**

a. This is set in an Alternate Universe.

b. Tifa is 20 years old and Rufus is 25 years old.

c. Rufus's status in the company is currently de facto.

d. This is going to contain adult language, themes, and suggestions. Some lemon pie, perhaps. Thus, the MA rating. Reader discretion is advised. (_OOoooOOOh)_

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII is property of Square Enix. (Rufus, if I write well, you'll give the franchise to me.)

Rufus: We'll see.

* * *

**Chapter One – The Planet's Most Eligible Bachelor**

Rufus Shinra needed to get married.

As soon as possible.

Irritation thrummed through him as he sat in his vast office. Outside, a thick fog had settled over the city. It had only been a month since the Old Man passed away from a heart attack. Oh, he loved it, of course he did, the Old Man's heart attack had saved him from the burden of orchestrating another assassination. The media went on a frenzy, trying to unearth whatever personal information they could about him, but Tseng was doing a very excellent job at keeping them driveling for any morsel about the man who had inherited the world. Droves of women threw themselves at him willingly, all of them more beautiful and ambitious than the former. However, despite his mutual desire for whatever they offered, he just didn't have the time. How could you fit sex into your schedule when you have at least seventy calls already waiting just after you'd taken your first sip of coffee? Underneath his fingers was a document, the company's budget proposal – approximately 77 billion gil.

He was the most powerful man in the planet now, which meant that he was the one responsible for every single life in his employ, every life that depended on Shin-Ra, which _is_ the world. But did the media really give a damn? No. The only media outlet not dedicated on digging the dirt on him was his company's. Everyone wanted to know him. Everyone wanted to get acquainted with him, because he was the It man. As if, he thought.

But right now, his throne wasn't quite his yet. Yes, he was already called President Rufus – but what the public didn't know was that it wasn't official yet. Thanks to the Old Man's damned will, that explicitly said that he would not be the CEO of Shin-Ra unless he married. Old Man had written: _While I am assured that my son will do his best to keep Shin-Ra in its position, I am worried that if I should ever leave the company to his care, he will never find time to produce an heir and continue our lineage. So, I am setting this condition. (However, if I die and he has already married, then you can just skip this part, attorney.) _Rufus bet that the devil was having a laugh in hell.

He didn't have time for nonsensical things like love.

The world was in the palm of his hand, wasn't that enough burden?

How? Who?

None of the women he knew were truly wife-material. To be honest he didn't really know a lot of women. He didn't have the inclination, hadn't had the slightest of interest, since his eyes were trained solely to one thing: the Presidency, despite the public's impression.

Deciding that his time was being wasted by his personal turmoil, Rufus trained his eyes down to the papers his secretary had neatly placed on his desk. He was dotting the 'i' in his signature when he stopped. It took a moment before a small smile appeared on his lips. He fished out his PHS and dialed Tseng.

"Tseng," he said softly. "Come to my office. I have something to assign you."

* * *

"I've been so worried about you. We haven't talked in so long, Cloud –" Tifa said softly into the phone, eyes downcast to the laptop screen. It had been _weeks_ since Cloud called rung her up, and she felt excited that he had called tonight. He sounded a little bit cheerier than the last time they had spoken. She found herself feeling hopeful.

There was a rumble of white noise. "I'm sorry, Tifa, I have to go… I'll call you later, okay?"

"But," Tifa found herself protesting.

"I'm really sorry I can't talk longer, Tifa, the train's going to be here in a few…" Cloud pleaded.

Then why did you call me in the first place?

"It's alright, Cloud. I'll talk to you soon," she said as calmly as she could.

"Yeah… Stay safe." _Click._

She sat there, feeling her eyes sting. There was a large lump caught in her throat and the contents of her coffee mug couldn't get rid of it. So she sat there, feeling so embarrassed at herself for getting her hopes up the moment she saw the caller ID. Her ears were still ringing, her skin was still prickling. She didn't want to think badly of Cloud. They've already been dating for three years, after all! She just had to let Cloud deal with his first love's death… right? What was her name again? Aria? Arianne? No, it was Aerith; her apartment had been broken into and she'd been stabbed in the chest _once,_ over a year and a half ago. When the news reached her boyfriend, it was like he had shut down completely. Cloud had skipped their anniversary dinner to drive to Aerith's funeral, and she convinced herself that it was okay. Aerith was his first girlfriend after all, and first love never truly fades. She hated the taste of the words, then and now. When he returned from the funeral, it was as if he no longer saw Tifa.

Her friends all tried to tell her that it wasn't normal. No guy would have ever done what he'd done. They told her that the way he was acting wasn't a good sign. Tifa had put on a brave face and said, "But he's _my _first love. I can't just leave him!" They frowned and told her that she was insane. None of them understood why she had stayed beside him despite the sudden zone-outs. Cloud needed her. She knew it. So when he announced that he was leaving town to find himself, she didn't jump to conclusions that he was cheating. She kissed him and told him to come back as quickly as he could. Now… well, she sure felt small and stupid.

What were they now, really?

Suddenly, the elevator door slid open and Tseng strode towards her. "President Rufus is expecting me," the Director said without intonation. If he saw the tears in her eyes, he didn't comment, and Tifa was grateful for it. "President, Director Tseng is here." Tifa said to the landline. "Please go in." The man nodded and entered the inner room wordlessly. When she heard the doors close, Tifa dabbed her eyes with tissue, chiding herself for not knowing how to control herself.

* * *

"President," Tseng said, stopping in front of Rufus's desk, regarding the other man with coolly masked concern.

Rufus looked up from the papers he was signing and grinned. There was a gleam in the young man's eyes that Tseng could only interpret was glee. Whatever had brought that sheen on the President's eyes, Tseng would gladly reward, serve, whatever. Rufus put down the pen and rose from his desk. "Tseng, I've got the solution to my problem." Rufus stood with his back to the Turk Director, looking at the slow crawl of the traffic below.

Furrowing his brows minutely, the Turk asked, "Is that so, President?"

"Yes," the young President said with a lilt of a chuckle. "I want you to watch over my secretary. Who's available?"

Watch over his secretary? The Director almost frowned at the younger man's answer but did not. "I will have Elena follow her, President. May I know why we're shadowing Miss Lockhart now?"

Rufus turned to face his most trusted employee and smiled. "She's going to be my wife, Tseng."

He blinked. "Does she know about this already?"

The blonde man chuckled. "Of course not."

"I never took you to be so heartless, President," Tseng commented.

Rufus's smile disappeared and was replaced by the serious face he favored. Looking at Rufus now would have triggered goose flesh on anyone, but Tseng had grown accustomed to it already. He merely kept his stance steady and watched the most powerful man in the Planet sit down, sighing. "I can't afford to have a heart. Imagine that." Tseng looked down at Rufus, whose shoulders were now slightly slumped. A rare sight.

"Shall I brief Elena on her assignment, President?" Tseng said discreetly.

The blonde man nodded, "I'll give you twenty minute's head start."

This time, when Tseng left the President's office, he did look closely at Tifa Lockhart.

* * *

Tifa was lost in her thoughts, and did not notice the Turk studying her as he left. Didn't even hear him say 'have a good evening, Miss Lockhart'.

Enough was enough – she wasn't taking any more of Cloud's crap. It was Friday night! She won't go home, sit and wait for a call that won't come. No! Determinedly, she rose from her desk, grabbed her handbag. She will paint the town red – if not, then a shade of pink. She could go to a wine bar uptown, see if anyone from work was going… Or she could go to that trendy club she'd heard the interns talking about by the water cooler… Flirt, and have a one night stand with a hot stranger…

Who was she kidding? Tifa knew that she was never going to do any of those things. Didn't know how. Didn't dare. She'd been raised too conservatively to do any of those things she'd just planned spur of the moment… Sighing, she walked over to her boss's office to see if there was anything else he needed. Then she'd go home. Alone.

Like always.

She knocked lightly on Rufus Shinra's door.

"Come in."

The two words he'd all but barked startled her. She'd been his secretary since he'd assumed the role as President, and until now, she still wasn't used to Rufus Shinra. Tifa pushed open the door. "President Shinra? I'll be going home now, unless you need me…?"

Rufus looked up at her from the document he was reading, pen in hand. His icy aquamarine eyes were intense, even from their distance. "Need you?" he repeated, as if considering the question. A thick moment of silence passed before the President gave her a tiny smile and said, "No. You may go." Tifa nodded, still not used to the terse commands, and slipped out of the room quietly.

* * *

The girl had been crying while he was in the President's office, Tseng noted.

It was simply unacceptable behavior to let your personal matters get in the way of work. It was unethical. Seeing her watery features made the Turk wonder if his boss had made a proper – no, good decision. If the girl couldn't control her emotions in the office, if she was as emotionally weak as he thought she is, then the President's plans would be hampered. This was something that Tseng could not afford to overlook.

.


	2. Cinderella and Prince Charming

**Chapter Two – Cinderella and Prince Charming**

_The girl who seemed unbreakable, broke.  
She dropped a fake smile and whispered to herself,  
"I can't do this anymore." _

_-Anonymous_

* * *

It was close to midnight, Tifa guessed, and she was still waiting for a cab to drive by. She was drenched and shivering by the curb outside the kickboxing gym. Mist rose from her body, and it held her attention. Her gym bag was, mercifully, waterproof. This was the only thing she knew to do. This was the only way she knew how to paint the town in her color. She liked to imagine beating up Cloud from time to time. Tonight she had spent four hours releasing her pent up anger towards her incredibly insensitive partner, trying to convince herself that he'll come around soon. But she just couldn't fool herself any longer. Their status was already beyond saving, and already too ridiculous. A pair of lights flashed and she held out her arm. "Where to, Miss?" the cabbie asked her, taking in her mussed up appearance. She smiled as she slid into the backseat, and then told him how to get to her townhouse. The windows immediately began to fog. While they waited for the traffic light to go green, Tifa drew chocobos chasing a human chocobo on the window. A slow rock song was playing in the radio, but Tifa only heard the faint melody over her thoughts.

Her hair slapped hard against her face when she sprinted from the cab to her foyer. If it hadn't been for some jerk's sleek car parked in her curb, she wouldn't have had to run. She heard the cab idling as the driver waited for her to get inside safely. She discarded her gym bag on the entry way and headed straight to the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the lights. She didn't want to see anything, because if she did, she would be reminded of Cloud, and she would get lonely. Again.

She tugged her shirt off then threw it on the tiled floor. It landed with a soggy thump. She had thought that keeping herself active was going to help her keep the sadness at bay. But it wasn't doing much of a job.

Hearing the water running, slapping against the tub's ceramic, Tifa tried to steady herself, palms firmly pressed against the sink. Tifa stared at her naked body in the mirror. Watched her pink flecks crawl from her neck to her pale cheeks. In the dim light from outside, she traced her features, tried to control the tears that threatened to fall.

_Stay safe._

When was the last time he'd said that he loved her?

He didn't even say it to her the day he left.

Never did he tell her that he missed her.

Tifa's face crumpled and she heard the bathtub overflowing.

* * *

"Director, Guardian Angel, please respond," Elena's voice hissed from the PHS's tiny speakers. Tseng stopped reading a mission report and picked up the phone. He was still in the headquarters, since Rufus insisted on finishing his work before leaving. Both men knew that that wasn't really going to happen, but who was Tseng to tell the boss to stop, when millions of people depended on the man? It was highly unlikely that the President was going to listen anyway. "Guardian One, go ahead."

"Sir, _Cinderella_ has come home."

"I see." Tseng said. "Were you able to identify where she came from?"

"Cinderella was carrying a gym bag, Sir."

"Perform location sweep, Guardian Angel, and you may go home."

"Yes Sir."

He let out a sigh of relief. Tifa had not gone home immediately after she clocked out, and it alarmed Tseng slightly. But he must give the woman the benefit of the doubt. Surely, the woman had a life of her own beyond being the President's secretary. He had been tempted to send Elena scouring the metro for her, but thought better of it. The young Turk wasn't as able as Reno and Rude, she still had a lot to learn. He made her wait for Cinderella to come home instead. It had been a long, dull wait.

It was interesting to know that Cinderella was going to the gym. It helped explain her lithe physique. The tidbit of information riled up his curiosity further. What kind of woman was Tifa Lockhart, exactly? Why did President Rufus pick her, instead of the thousand women who desperately pined for him? The information on the woman's CV was never going to suffice.

From Tifa's CV, Tseng discovered that she'd gone to prestigious schools ever since she'd been a child, and that she was an only child. Her family owned the popular Mt. Nibel inn – which assured him that the woman wasn't exactly poor. But honestly, everyone's annual income would seem relatively meager when set beside the Shinra fortune. She'd been born 03 May 1987, making Rufus five years older than her. There wasn't anything special on the girl's CV, but he shouldn't be judging the apple of the boss's eye just from it.

"Director, you have a call from the President's office," his secretary told him when he picked up the landline.

"Thank you, Anita." Tseng said nonchalantly, waiting for the secretary to connect Rufus. "Is anything the matter, President?"

"You know why I'm calling. Has she come home yet?" Rufus asked, impatience heavily lacing his voice.

"Yes, President, Elena said she just home. She was apparently in a gym of some sorts."

Rufus chuckled. "I see. Have the car ready, Tseng. I'm done for the day."

Finally.

"Of course, President." Tseng said before the President ended the call.

* * *

Tifa sat there on the freezing floor, heaving shaky breaths. It felt as though her breathing rattled her very bones. Her back was leaning on the wall, supporting her. Droplets continued to fall from the faucet and the tiny dripping sounds were magnified by her silence. She felt as though, if she spoke, she would break again. In the end, she never managed to put herself in the bathtub. Because when she stood over the tub, all she could think of was lying there and holding her breath.

As her ragged breath ebbed away to give way to her usual rhythm, Tifa felt extremely ridiculous. Pathetic, even.

The constant pain her body still lingered over her, but she felt numb at the same time.

It was 2 A.M., she learned when she walked into the kitchen. She had tied a bathrobe to her waist and boiled water for tea. Then she sat on the breakfast counter, toying with an orange. How could she sleep now? She was aching for consolation that would never ever come. It hurt her more that somewhere out there, beyond her darkened home, Cloud was asleep, dreaming of someone else entirely. Her nails dug into the orange, releasing its zest, letting its tang assault her senses. She was alive. She _has_ a life. And she had wasted too much of it. Her brows furrowed as she thought back on how many times she had sacrificed her own happiness for his. He did not love her enough to stop her. She wasn't mad – no, she was just plain disappointed. Yes, that was what she was feeling – simple, unadulterated disappointment. "I should have known," she said lowly. Perhaps it would be better if he had simply broken up with her the very day he returned from the funeral. Why did he keep her, if he wasn't willing to be with her? "I should have known that you'd choose a memory over me." Beads of orange juice raced down from her hands. The kettle whistled, announcing itself.

Fortunately, the day beginning before Tifa Lockhart and her steaming mug was Sunday. She already had her day planned.

She was going to be in bed, ignoring everything, all day.

Best plan _ever_.

Apparently, some people did not understand what Sundays were for.

Tifa was very happily buried in her blanket, until her PHS began ringing. Glaring at the ceiling, Tifa chanted to herself: 'That's bound to be Cloud. Ignore, ignore, _ignore!' _She steeled herself on the bed as the phone shrieked, shrieked, and shrieked. No, she was ignoring everything today. Honestly, that man didn't know how to respect time. It was six in the morning, what the hell was up with him? Jerk, jerk, jerk, you fucked up _jerk! _She smiled exultantly when the phone stopped ringing. And then it went off again. It was odd. Cloud never rang twice – his calls were like falling stars, you blink and miss. Tifa chewed her bottom lip. _Close your eyes, don't feel, don't answer the phone!_ Tifa covered her head with a pillow.

It kept going off every time before Tifa could let out a sigh of relief.

And now she was sitting up, scowling. That was not Cloud. It definitely wasn't. But who else would call? Her friends had stopped keeping in touch with her after she let Cloud leave. It was mostly her fault – she had shut them out, snapped at them when they tried to reason with her about him. She thought that she was better off without them anyway. She wanted them back. It began to ring again, and this time, Tifa snatched it without hesitation. Doubt seeped into her as she stared at the PHS screen, telling her that the caller wasn't in her registry. She hadn't given her number to anyone – ah, maybe it was one of those boys who send randomly dial numbers and hope for the best that the one they're calling was a horny idiot too. "Nope," she said as she turned her PHS off.

* * *

"She turned her phone off." Rufus snarled, tossing his PHS to the space next to Tseng in the couch. A leather binder rested on the Turk Director's lap. It was all the information the Turks had managed to gather that night – her phone records, which, were honestly not as any of them had expected, a more detailed background profile courtesy of Rude who had gone out of his way to call the girl's parents, and a dozen long range telephoto shots of her. It seemed to them as if the woman the President had chosen to marry wasn't living a life of her own at all. Tseng watched his boss pace, then said tonelessly, "What would you expect? She might have thought you were a prank caller of some sort."

The President's pale blue glare found him and Tseng felt like flinching ever so slightly. "It's common sense to answer a call. I've had enough of this. Tell Elena to be alert. I'm going to talk to Tifa." He grabbed his white coat and began storming out of the room. "Why her, Rufus?" Tseng asked, stopping Rufus from storming out of his room. It was a rare occasion for Tseng to address him by his first name. "You could have a socialite, a better match, to act as your wife, and yet you choose this nobody."

"She's not a simple nobody, Tseng." Rufus replied calmly. "She's got the pedigree. She might appear to be a commoner, but her family's got a good name. You have done a good job of keeping me in the dark about my family's standing with the public, Tseng, but I must say…your efforts weren't good enough." He laughed then walked out.

A quiet groan escaped the Turk.

* * *

Elena's vehicle was already parked in front of Tifa's townhouse. Tseng parked behind it. "For a tiny living space, it's almost adorable," Rufus mused, rolling down his window slightly for a better view. The cars the immediate Shinra family used were armored sedans, for the most obvious reason. Daimler, Shin-Ra's ServAuto division, prided itself in crafting beautiful, but superior automobiles and vehicles for consumer and military use. The President's gift from his mother had been this car. The entire auto had been outfitted with nano-resin that could deter anything from the classic bullet to military-grade projectiles, its fuel tank would self-seal, the entire dashboard had been outfitted with air-pillows – much better than the ancient airbag, and if ever the assailant would manage to infiltrate the car, the air conditioning system would secrete an artificially synthesized version of tetrodotoxin, which would paralyze a perpetrator's central nervous system. The President's mother didn't show her affections to her son very often, but when she did, she did so grandly. There wasn't another car like it. Rufus liked the car simply because it wasn't gaudy, like the pA-86. It was coated in platinum.

"It was her birthday present from her parents," Tseng informed the younger man.

Rufus eyed the townhouse and nodded. "That was generous of them. But couldn't they have afforded her something better? She doesn't even have a lawn." The President almost sounded bothered.

"Director, Guardian Angel, please respond," came Elena's garbled voice.

Tseng connected the PHS to his earpiece. "Guardian Angel, what's the status?"

"No sign of Cinderella. She might be sleeping in."

Rufus's brow shot upwards. "But she was able to turn off her phone."

"Director, may I ask why you are here?" the lady Turk queried.

Tseng glanced at Rufus, who wasn't very helpful. "Prince Charming wanted to scold Cinderella for not answering his calls, but I suppose he's had a change of heart." the Director said nonchalantly, enjoying the annoyance spreading through the President's face. "Moving out now. Stay put, Guardian Angel."

"Yes Sir."

Rufus was glaring daggers at the ammo-proof glass window the entire ride back home.

But as Tseng was parking the car in the garage bay, Rufus said quietly, "I ought to shoot you for those stupid codenames."

The Wutai cracked a grin. "Elena had suggested the codenames. I wanted to go with something like Red Riding Hood and Big, Bad Wolf."

"I would have liked the _Big, Bad Wolf_ better."

"Noted, President." Tseng said as they got out of the car.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Thank you for reading, stranger!_

_I especially liked creating Rufus's car on this one._

_Also, my warmest hugs to those who reviewed on the first chapter! Thanks for coming out and saying hi! :) _

_I wanted to re-create the character of Tifa in this fic... because in the '11 version, she was too miserable and clingy. I wanted to write stronger character. She doesn't have a sister any more, but I hope I did the re-write character of Tifa here justice. This is one of the many changes I want to do in this story. Hehe. _

_If you liked this update... please let me know. Reviews can unlock longer chapters. _

_You can also tell how I suck and can go to hell. _

_Your call._

_Shotgunning outta here,_

_Victoria Chrystallis_


	3. Into Motion

**Chapter Three – Into Motion**

* * *

The moment President Rufus stepped out of the elevator that Monday morning, there was definitely something different. Tifa couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she knew that the President wasn't just being his usual moody, hung-over self. He stood there, letting the steel elevator doors slide close behind him. She stopped typing for a moment to greet him a good morning but the way he was looking at her made her feel uneasy. Made her wonder if she had gotten her clothes dirty, or if they didn't appear to be something his secretary would wear. He was a handsome man, she acknowledged, as she had on the first day he'd hired her. Tall, platinum blonde perfectly combed and slick, pale aquamarine eyes, his cheekbones high and chiseled, his nose a perfect, sharp feature. As always, his clothes were immaculate.

"I need to speak with you. Come to my office."

She nodded, and moved to get out of her work station. Suddenly, she felt extremely conscious of her plain gray wrap-around dress she'd decided to don today.

To her surprise, Rufus had beaten her to the door. "After you," he said quietly. Tifa found herself flushing.

Rufus motioned for her to sit down before he sat down on his chair. Tifa sat down as gracefully as she could. When she raised her eyes to look at her boss, she found him looking at her, sizing her up in a way she'd accustomed to. Tifa tried not to fidget. He'd never really looked at her before, had he? She was simply someone to bring papers, answer the telephone. Now he was watching her, eyes narrowed, seeming as if he was deciding whether she passed or failed. Passed or failed _what? _

Funny how men around her didn't quite see her.

His hands were laced in front of him now.

"President," Tifa breathed, "is there anything I can do for you?"

His eyes rose to meet hers. "As a matter of fact, yes, there is something."

"All right," she said, waiting for further instructions.

"Your passport is currently working, isn't it?" he asked, and Tifa blinked, nonplussed. She nodded. "Good." He paused and Tifa had the feeling he was considering what to say. An odd thought, since Rufus Shinra was the kind of man who always knew what to say. "As you might be aware, the board is holding a party in honor of the company's anniversary," he finally explained tersely, "and I would like you to accompany me." It was not a friendly invitation, in fact, it didn't sound at all like one. It was more like an order. A command.

In the short time she'd worked for Rufus, she had never accompanied him anywhere, not even to one of his frequent out of town meetings. The man preferred to do things on his own, and besides, he had the Turks at his disposal. "Where are we going?"

"We leave for Costa del Sol tomorrow evening and return on Friday." He paused, eyes narrowed, brows furrowed in concentration. "This is an important event… do you understand?"

Costa del Sol… if her geography wasn't too far off, that was in the West, and at least eight hours by plane. But who plans parties that last for four days? Some party! Tifa took in a deep breath. It wasn't really important to her boss that the company was celebrating its anniversary. What was important for him was making the best impression he could to the other executives and the guests. There was a lot of pressure and doubt swirling and weighing him down, she knew. She swallowed, heard the audible gulp, and forced herself to meet Rufus's harsh gaze.

"Is there anything I can do to arrange the trip?"

"No. Everything's been arranged. Just send your passport and relevant information to Tseng." Rufus replied.

Tifa nodded, much more comfortable with the terse manner.

She could hardly pump Rufus for information, or ask him what kind of clothes she should bring. Or why he had chosen _her_, from his team of secretaries. For the second time, she swallowed down her curiosity and smiled stiffly. "Will this be all, President?"

His gaze swept over her once more and a strange, sardonic smiled curved his mouth. Tifa had a feeling that she had somehow done something that Rufus had expected… and it was a disappointment. "That's it," he said, the promptly turning to his work, dismissing her both from his presence and mind. Tifa slipped out of the office silently.

Back at her desk, Tifa sank into her chair with weak knees.

She was going to Costa del Sol. She pictured the postcard image – white sandy beaches, tropical forests, tropical drinks. People, laughter, sultry breezes. For a moment she allowed a thrill to trickle through her senses like quicksilver. Suddenly she liked her job very much. If this was how it was going to be – getting to jet-set to luxurious vacation spots she couldn't possibly afford to, since she'd read that going to Costa del Sol would cost you _at least _300,00 gil a day – then putting up with President Rufus's cold aura was going to be worth it.

Who knew what could happen? Who she might meet?

In her mind's eye, she could already touch the dreamy tanned man with washboard abs, flashing a dazzling smile, whispering sweet nothings. He wasn't going to be blonde, that was for sure.

After sending Tseng a copy of her information, Tifa drummed her fingers absently on her desk. Then it struck her.

She was going to Costa del Sol… _with Rufus Shinra._

Her fingers hung midair as she considered what a trip with her boss would be like. Together on a plane, in the villa, on the beach.

Would Rufus relax in a different environment? Or would he remain stoic and short tempered? She tried to imagine him for moment, smiling sincerely, not smiling politely. She tried to imagine him laughing, rather than scowling. She gave up a minute later. It was impossible. She'd never seen him that way. The only smiles she'd seen him give were aimed mostly at the people he met and she knew that those smiles were born out of cold-blooded business acumen.

_Stop thinking about stuff like this, you're at work!_

She had no place, no right, to imagine what Rufus would be like. It didn't matter. He was taking her with him to the party because he needed her to take notes and support him as a secretary should. And she had to do it well.

But… Costa del Sol. With Rufus.

What woman wouldn't feel thrilled? She wasn't immune to it.

And with her current soppy life, she had every reason to feel excited. Hadn't she just decided to dump the heavy weight that was Cloud and begin again? Well… this was certainly a perfect way to start that new chapter. A giggle escaped her.

Four days in Costa del Sol.

Anything seemed possible.

Even if she had to go with Rufus Shinra, at least she would be getting out there. Having a bit of an adventure.

Painting the town red.

It could be a start.

* * *

He had a wife.

Rufus wanted to laugh for how easy it was to lure her into his trap. But he knew that from this moment on, he had to tread carefully. It was delicate business, maintaining a deception. Still, he was confident that he could easily manipulate his secretary. Intimidation was the key to dealing with people. It always was.

Miss Lockhart was unfortunately one of the people in life whose only purpose was to be used.

From an early age, Rufus had learned that it was a dog-eat-dog world. And he always preferred to be the dog devouring the other.

However… despite the satisfaction he felt at obtaining his so-called wife, he also felt a restless surging, an uneasy energy pulsing through him. He had only just ticked one item off his list – there were still many things that weren't under his control.

Would his secretary be convincing as his wife?

He hadn't told her just what exactly was required of her; he'd do it on the plane where there was no exit. No escape.

His mouth curved into a knowing smile. He didn't think she would balk. But he'd offer her money. Nobody turned down cold, hard cash. Or he could use her family's business.

It was certainly odd that despite her good financial stature, being from a well-to-do family and being his secretary, she still appeared to need a little bit more. She always wore the same clothes to work, and she didn't bother very much with cosmetics. She could use a make-over or two, or at the very least, some good advice. Women her age concerned themselves mainly with their appearance, and yet here his secretary was.

Makeover…

The word, the thought, stilled him. He pictured her showing up tomorrow with a cheap suitcase full of plain, inexpensive little outfits. A suitcase of tailored, professional clothes… Bermuda shorts, linen blouses… Not a wife's.

Not _his _wife's.

Rufus shuddered.

It was something he had overlooked. But no matter, he could deal with that easily.

Rufus glanced at his wristwatch. It was already seven p.m. – she'd be home now.

"Tseng," Rufus said.

"Yes, President?"

"Cinderella's house. Now."

If the Turk found it odd, he did not comment, only made an illegal U-turn.

* * *

"Listen Cloud," she said loudly to the PHS, "I've had it. I don't know how far off you are with your soul searching, but I am so _done_. I've been fooling myself that you'd come around soon, but it's obvious that you are not."

It was raining outside again. Tifa stood in the middle of her kitchen, leaning heavily on the counter. Cloud had rung her up a few minutes ago, and she had wasted no time in finally giving him a piece of her mind. Tomato sauce bubbled in the pot. Water dripped from the faucet. She had a bottle of wine open.

"Why didn't you just tell me that you couldn't be in a relationship, why'd you keep me hoping?" she asked him.

He hadn't said anything since she'd started.

"Tifa…"

She chewed on her bottom lip, to let him speak. She was glaring at the floor.

"Tifa… I'm sorry."

"That's it?"

"I…"

"Tell me you love me and I will bash your brains out when I see you."

A momentary pause. It felt so heavy.

"I'm sorry I wasted your time."

"Good bye, Cloud."

"Hm, yeah. Bye…"

She ended the call and cried.

But she didn't cry because she was sad that it was over. No. She was crying because she was free. She was crying because it had been too easy. But at least, she cajoled herself, she had left with some dignity intact. But it made her wonder… was she really that easy to let go of? Splashing her face with cold tap water a minute later, she returned to cooking dinner. How she wished she had her friends to run to for comfort and enabling. Tifa turned up her iPod and chopped, swaying absentmindedly to the music.

She didn't hear the knocking on her front door until it became a fierce, methodical pounding, practically sending vibrations through the wood floor. Tifa took off her earbuds and headed to the door with her heart leaping to her throat.

Who knocked like _that?_

Police, drunks, and angry ex-boyfriends came to mind. She tip-toed to the entry hall and peered ever so carefully through the narrow window, and found out her answer.

Rufus Shinra knocked like that.

She took a deep breath, she ran a hand over her hair, which tumbled loosely over her shoulders, and opened the door.

"Mister Shinra?" Tifa eyed him uncertainly, for he looked as grim as ever. He was frowning, his hair was misted by the rain, eyes glinting with impatience, his usually pale cheeks were slashed with color. Behind Rufus, she saw his security detail. One of them, Reno, waved playfully at her. She was almost inclined to wave back, if it wasn't for the angry man standing right in front of her, standing inches away from her. He was frighteningly close that she could smell his cologne.

"I have to speak with you. May I come in?"

Like this morning, she nodded, suddenly conscious of her mussed hair, the leggings and the long sweater she'd changed into. She touched her cheek and realized she had a dab of tomato sauce smeared there. "Yes, of course."

The hall of her house was long, narrow and high. There was a vintage mirror that she'd bought in the flea market with her girlfriends a year back, and a coat hanger. Rufus closed the door behind him. Just standing there, he seemed to fill the gloomy space. He glanced around, and Tifa knew he was taking in the modest furnishings.

Just then she heard a sizzling sound from the kitchen and, with a murmured excuse, hurried to it.

The tomato was bubbling ominously on the stove and she lowered the gas flame before turning around.

She gave a little gasp of surprise; Rufus was standing there on the doorway, taking in the pathetic scene in one cursory sweep of his contemptuous gaze. His hands were buried deep in his pockets.

Tifa found herself flushing. She could just imagine what Rufus was thinking.

"I'm sorry I was making some dinner," she explained lamely. "May I… ask why you're here?" _In my humble abode, o powerful one?_

He was completely still, radiating energy, impatience. "I forgot to mention some salient details regarding our trip." Rufus paused, raking his fingers through his damp hair. "I'm travelling to Costa del Sol to court the executives of Shin-Ra that haven't completely grasped the idea of me being the new President, and to court potential business partners. So it is highly important that we project the right… appearance." He paused again, as if waiting for a reply, but Tifa was simply baffled.

I already guessed why you'd be bothering to go to the beach, she thought. "Yes, I see," she said after a moment. Although she didn't, to be honest.

Rufus let out an impatient breath. "Do you? Then perhaps you realize that I can't take a secretary that takes her clothes from the leftover racks at the mall."

Color surged fully to Tifa's face. It was infuriating that Rufus thought she didn't have the clothes for the trip. Even worse that he was probably right. But _hello_ of course she had thought of dropping by the mall after work tomorrow to get a nice beach outfit! "Perhaps you could tell me what to bring then," she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

He shook his head. "I can assure you, sweetheart, that you don't have it."

Tifa lifted her chin. He'd never called her 'sweetheart' before, and she didn't like the casual way he used it. "If I'm not stylish enough for you," she said crossly, "there are other secretaries in the company who could oblige you." He arched a brow then nodded. "I'm sure that there are," he said, "but I want you." The way he spoke was flat, yet Tifa felt a frisson of awareness, excitement, from his words. _I want you. _

_Because of your organizational skills, you moron! _She told herself, mentally face palming. And obviously, he didn't want her to accompany him because of her appearance or style. Tifa was already very aware that she was below average at those points. Anyway, she reminded herself that the last thing she wanted was Rufus Shinra turning his attention to her. Working for him was difficult enough!

"Well then, I'll try my best to look smart. Was there anything else you wanted to talk to me about, Mister Shinra?" Tifa finally said.

"You should call me Rufus," he replied abruptly, and she simply stared.

"Why?" she asked a moment later, and he gave her a cool look which spoke volumes about what he thought of her audacity in questioning him.

"Because I said so."

"Then fine." She swallowed any indignation she felt. It was pointless. Rufus Shinra was her boss, and he could do what he wanted. Even in her house. "Is that all?" she finally got out in a voice of strangled politeness.

The blonde simply arched his brow again. "No." After a moment he sighed, and without another word, he turned his heel and headed for the stairs.

Tifa's mouth promptly dropped. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Upstairs." He said. "Why, do stairs ever lead elsewhere?"

Okay, now he was just making fun of her. She followed him up the steep, narrow stairs, unable to believe that he was really so insensitive to invade her home, her privacy, in such a blatant and unapologetic way. Yet… she shouldn't be so surprised. This was how Rufus Shinra operated. She had just never been on the receiving end. She'd never been important enough to merit more than a single scornful glance (if, at all) and a few barked out instructions. Now… he had placed her in the middle of the stage, spotlight harshly focused on her home, her clothes… on her.

Why?

Why was this man being so fussy over a business trip?

Rufus strode down the hallway, poking in the bedrooms, which had been converted to a mini library and work out studio (when she couldn't afford gym membership), or were simply unused. The remaining guest room was reserved for Cloud, whenever he decided to come to her, and the sheets were probably shrouded with dust already.

"This place…" Rufus began. "…do you seriously call it a home?" He had made the remark with casual disdain as he closed the guest bedroom. "Why do you live here?"

"This is my home," Tifa snapped, her voice wavering as she futilely tried to block his entrance to her bedroom. "What are you doing here, _Rufus?_ Besides being unbelievably nosy and rude." A tiny, tiny voice reminded her that she was speaking to her boss, but she was far too offended to give a damn. A bigger part of her was glad she had. She glared at him.

"Seeing if you have appropriate clothes." Rufus replied. "Now move." He elbowed past her none too gently and Tifa was forced to follow, grinding her teeth as he strode into her bedroom and looked around. Her bed was made, thankfully, but her pajamas were still on the floor, along with discarded other items like her bras. The bedside table was completely surrounded by paperback novels and stacked over with it. It suddenly felt revealing, although of what, Tifa couldn't quite say. She didn't want Rufus in here, looking over the intimate details of her life. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right. It was incredibly uncomfortable.

Rufus was looking at her framed college photographs. He was quietly chuckling at her candid photo, taken by Yuffie. She had her hair curled then, but had ended up a glorious mess. She had worn her boyfriend's glasses and posed like one of those jean-ad models. "Ah college," Rufus said, barely stifling his chuckle now, as he strode over to her wardrobe. He flung the doors open and surveyed the unimpressive contents of the racks. Tifa felt a growing sense of embarrassment and annoyance as he thumbed through her rack of clothes, mostly sensible skirts and dresses, a handful different colored blouses to match her suit. Her other clothes were neatly folded at the very bottom and back of the wardrobe. "As I thought," Rufus swiveled slowly to face her, light beginning to gleam in his eyes, "nothing remotely suitable." Tifa visibly flinched.

"With all due respect, _Rufus_, I don't think your impression with the executives in the party will be affected if I look like crap." Tifa snapped. "I apologize if I do not dress like ma'am Scarlet."

He gave her a look. "You believe that crap? You listen to it?" He laughed softly.

"She comes to the office all the time," she countered, challenging him to deny it.

Rufus rolled his eyes. He took a step forward, his voice dangerously soft. "Is _that_ what you're getting at? Oh, Tifa, I thought you were better than that."

"What I'm after," Tifa spat, her voice turning shrill with desperation, "is getting you out of my bedroom and my house. You may be my boss, but you don't have any rights to be here."

"I wouldn't want any," he scoffed, and it took Tifa a moment to realize how it sounded. Bedroom rights. Sexual rights. With a small smile, he bent down and hooked the strap of her discarded bra on his little finger, dangling it in front of her. "Bit small, love."

She flushed, thought of threatening him a sexual harassment suit, and knew she never would. "Please leave," she said in a tiny voice, and then realized with a stab of mortification that there were tears in her eyes again. Rufus must have thought that she was pathetic.

"Gladly," he informed her, "but you're coming with me."

Tifa blinked. The threat of tears had thankfully receded. "Coming with you? Why would I do that?"

"You don't have the proper clothes," Rufus said as if speaking to an idiot, "so we'll just have to get you some."

"I don't want –"

"This isn't about what you want, Tifa. It's about what I want. Get that straight right now."

Tifa bit hard on her lip. She couldn't afford to dig her heels now, not over something like this. She couldn't lose her job – it was literally the only thing she had right now. "Fine," she grumbled, "I assume you're footing the bill?"

He smiled. It made her insides curl unpleasantly. "Of course. You couldn't afford a pair of panties where we're going."

"I wouldn't want any," she snapped, but he'd already walked out of the bedroom, no doubt expecting her to follow, trotting at his heels like a good puppy.

* * *

_Yaaaay! Finally! We're back on track! :)  
Thank you to all you lovely readers who reviewed last time! You. Rock. My. Socks. Off. Even if most you are anons. I like silent types like Rude too! Haha!  
I'm on vacation right now so updates are pretty quick. When next month comes around... I'm not so sure. :/  
Oooh, you're such a brat prince Rufus._

_Rufus: *cocks shotgun* Did you say something?_

_Please don't forget to drop a review. *inches out of the picture, leaving Rufus alone* _

_Rufus: I know you said something. Come back here!_

_*Runs away* __I hope you liked this chaaaaaaaapterrrrrr_

___Rufus: Reno!_

___*Runs away faster desperately*_


	4. Cornered

**Chapter Four: Cornered**

* * *

Tifa crossed her arms and sat rigidly on a plush chair while Rufus spoke quietly to the sales attendants and the manager of the luxury boutique he'd brought her to. Outside, the Turks stood guard, no doubt blocking passersby from catching a glimpse of Rufus. He was this influential.

Upon arriving earlier, Tseng entered the boutique, followed by Reno and Rude. A few minutes later, the boutique's baffled shoppers were being ushered out by Reno and Rude. After the confused crowd dispersed, Rufus entered, with her in tow.

Every now and then, Rufus would cast her a dismissive glance. It annoyed her immensely. A couple minutes more later, he appeared to come to an understanding with the store people. The sales attendants, all clad in chic black, approached her. One asked for the size of her feet, then promptly left. The second one gave her a friendly smile. "Alright miss," she said with a haughty accent they seemed to all have, "Mister Shinra wants you to be outfitted for the next four days. Please follow me."

Still feeling indignant, Tifa followed the girl without a word.

"My name is Lois," the girl informed her as she began pulling out clothes from racks with a speed that startled Tifa. "You will be needing three evening dresses, some casual wear, swimming attire..." She went on and on with the list of things Rufus apparently required. Tifa headed to a rack of black leather dresses. She gasped upon checking the price. The dress was worth five figures! Tifa stroked the supple leather, feeling disappointed.

She wasn't the type to spend money on things like clothes so much because she had been taught by her late mother how to be thrifty. But the dress was so beautiful... maybe just this once? It could be her moving-on dress... Perhaps she'll ask Lois to put it on hold, for when she gets back from Costa del Sol...?

"Miss Lockhart?" Lois called, standing in front of the changing room. Smiling apologetically, she replaced the dress and entered.

As she tried on the first outfit – a white ribbed dress – Tifa couldn't help but wonder why Rufus was doing this. Just what exactly was he trying to do? She felt ashamed for egging him on about footing the bill. He was her boss! She should not have done something so bold...

Every article Lois had chosen were the kind of clothes Tifa saw in high fashion magazines. These definitely belonged in Costa del Sol, but she felt undeserving. She felt cheap, even though the dresses made her look like a million bucks.

Two hours later, Tifa was finally trying on the last outfit. It was a slinky aqua dress that showed a lot of skin – more skin than Tifa was comfortable in exposing. It clung to her like second skin then cascaded down onto her feet in a slight pool. The material felt extremely fluid against her flesh.

"Gorgeous," Lois murmured, and gestured her to leave the dressing room. "President Shinra will want to see this."

Tifa began to oppose but the girl was already pushing her out, and from the corner of her eye, she saw Rufus stand up from the chair she had abandoned earlier, alert and ready, his mouth set in a hard line. He was surrounded by his Turks. She stood there, feeling extremely conscious of the way the dress clung and displayed her, leaving very little to the imagination... to Rufus's imagination.

For a few agonizing moments, he simply studied her. "Add it to the rest," he said, dismissing her.

With a rigid nod, Tifa retreated to the changing room and peeled off the gown, adding it to the heap of clothes, which she was sure had to cost at least several thousand gil. The sight of the pile made Tifa feel extremely... cheap. Slutty.

Weren't the women who made men buy copious amounts of indecently expensive clothes like that?

She was different, she tried to tell herself. He was the one who wanted the clothes, not her.

But she was letting him...

_Mom!_

"I'll just take these to the front," Lois said, taking the basket.

"No... I don't really need..." Tifa began to protest

The girl shook her head and smiled. "President said you might protest, but he was quite firm, Miss Lockhart. He wants you properly outfitted." And she left.

"Does he?" Tifa grumbled as she yanked her leggings back on. She sighed. "What Rufus Shinra wants, he gets, huh?"

"That's right."

She jumped. Tifa turned around and saw Rufus standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" she cried.

He braced on hand against the wall, his eyes glinted as they swept over her, his mouth curving into a knowing smile that made her blush. "Telling you to hurry up. I'm quite tired."

Tifa felt tiny splotches of heat prickling from her beneath her skin. She wasn't accustomed to having a man look at her the way he was now. Sure she and Cloud often made out and got frisky, but he never looked at her like how Rufus was right now. _Stop thinking about Cloud, stop thinking about Cloud! _What was more, the leggings weren't doing much of a job in making her feel half-dressed. She felt her body react to the intensity of his gaze. His assessing gaze caused her muscles to tighten, her breasts, clad only in a cream colored bra, to swell and feel heavier.

A mocking little smile had etched its way into his mouth.

She disliked it.

She put her hands on her hips and lifted her chin defiantly. "Had a good look?"

A flicker of surprise flashed in Rufus's eyes before he turned away. Tifa pulled on her sweater with shaky fingers.

Once outside the boutique, Reno and Rude loaded the boxes and bags into the back of the second sedan. Tifa let out a quiet sigh of relief. It meant that she wasn't going to ride back with Rufus. But for now she was tensely aware, he was standing right beside her.

"I will see you tomorrow," he told her. "Make sure you bring all that. I want you to look good."

"So you've said," Tifa replied. She realized with a nervous heart that she was supposed to thank him profusely for spending an insane amount of money on her (she didn't see the numbers clearly but she counted six digits from afar), but she couldn't get herself to cough up anything. If she were a different girl, it would have been nothing, saying thank you to this wonderful man who'd just made a dream come true (total shopping spree dream of every female ever). But she wasn't feeling grateful because she hadn't wanted the clothes or the shoes or the accessories in the first place, and he was too domineering and too obnoxious to deserve it.

Cissnei was standing beside the open car door, waiting for Tifa.

"That powder blue dress," Rufus finally said, "wear that last." He did not say good bye or good night, nor ask for thanks. He simply sauntered off towards his waiting car. "See you." He slid into the sedan, Reno closed the door for him.

It was Rude driving the car bringing her back to her beloved townhouse. Elena was sitting beside her, and Cissnei on the front seat. Tifa wanted to ask why they hadn't simply sent her off in a cab – wasn't that a better option?

"Would you rather that I picked you up from work and take you to the airport?" the pixie girl asked quietly as Rude slowed down. Tifa had however asked why this car had been parked in front of her house for the past two nights. The Turks simply said that it was because she was the President's secretary – she was an important figure now, because she knew all the secrets of the company. But she didn't feel like buying it. "Are you sure it wouldn't be such a bother?" Tifa asked.

She had wanted to ask the lady Turks about their boss, but it sound as if she were interested in him in a way that she shouldn't be, so she didn't. She continued to wonder instead. About him. About why he was suddenly paying her so much attention.

After Rude had taken in Rufus's purchases, they left. Tifa took out the dresses and sighed heavily. _Great, now I'm even more indebted to my boss, _she thought sourly. If... it were another man, if for example she shared an intimate relationship with that man and he'd done this, she would surely feel differently. She would be like those girls in the movies. But right now, Tifa felt like she was being bought.

Bought... for what reason?

Surely Rufus wasn't _this _flamboyant. She was sure that there had to be a reason behind his whirlwind kindness, _no_, generosity, if you could call it that. Whatever, he was a pompous ass.

Oh the joys of being the smaller force.

* * *

When Tifa checked in, she had simply expected to be led to the first-class lounge. Instead, Elena led her to another lounge. Rufus, she was informed, had already checked in an hour ago. She gritted her teeth. If she hadn't been obligated to pack and lug everything he'd bought the previous night, then maybe she would have made it earlier.

Passing through the first-class lounge, Tifa felt incredibly out of place. Even despite her responsible outfit, she felt as though those people idling about in the lounge could smell a fake. It could have been the noisy staccato of her heels, but they all seemed to watch her as she made her way to the next room. A polished woman wearing designer duds shot her a look of pure envy.

"You're late," Rufus looked up from his tablet, scowling, as Tifa stepped into the lounge.

They were the only ones inside it. This lounge was far more luxurious than the first-class lounge. "Is this your private lounge?" she asked, feeling stupid.

A soft chuckle met her uneasy silence. "Oh, hardly. This is the VIP lounge."

"So you mean first-class isn't enough anymore?" she thought aloud.

He merely shrugged.

She sank into one of the seat across him. He was transfixed by whatever he was reading in the tablet, and it made her glad that it did. Suddenly, as if he'd sensed her relief and sought to squash it, he placed the tablet down and looked at her. His gaze traveled slowly from her hair to the pair of black pumps that pinched her feet. She tried not to fidget. Why did he keep doing this, always giving her a once-over?

"You could have at least changed out of your office clothes." Rufus simply said later, before turning his attention back to his tablet.

Tifa rolled her eyes, then let it take in the elegance of the lounge. There were numerous couches and winged chairs scattered about. It had a bar and restaurant of its own. It gave off the impression of a high class restaurant. Rufus certainly belonged here, seeing how comfortable he appeared. It was curious how he could give off an aura of utter relaxation while sitting so upright. He was deeply absorbed by the tablet again, his eyes downcast, his lashes were just as platinum as his hair, swept and softened the hard, chiseled features of his face.

He was a harsh, ruthless man, Tifa knew. Women threw themselves willingly at him. Other business moguls wanted him to meet their daughters, wanted to merge their company with Shin-Ra. Rufus had a sharp, insensitive tongue, and she'd already taken too many lashings in such a short period of time. He never showed any weaknesses. Perhaps he thought that smiling was a sign of weakness, that's why he never did. And it made her wonder. Why was he the way he was?

Surely, there was a reason, a story, behind Rufus's cold steely personality.

She thought of her own – her mother had died when she was eight, leaving her confused and upset, causing her to get extremely reckless; she immersed herself with athletics in school and took slight interest with literature; her father remarried when she turned sixteen, throwing her into depression and suicidal tendencies; then she met Cloud and she thought, finally, something was wonderful in her life – boy, was she wrong on that assumption.

Tseng entered the lounge. "The jet's ready, President."

Rufus stood up and walked out, she followed him. He slowed down for a moment, as if waiting for her. "Ever flown before?" he asked as they walked side by side. The same woman shot her a stronger look now. Then it hit Tifa.

Already startled, Rufus just had to touch her elbow, to lead her on. The palm of his hand was cold.

The woman must have thought that they were a couple. Lovers.

She glanced at her boss. He was looking straight ahead, completely oblivious to the well-heeled travelers gawking at them.

At his miniscule gesture.

He was too close to her again. Too close that, she could see the strong, clean line of his jaw, how flawless his pale skin was. She smelled his cologne – minty, fresh and crisp, mildly-sweet, and subtle. She had expected something very strong, this was a surprise.

* * *

Rufus simply sauntered into the jet, of course.

Tifa followed him, feeling extremely out of place, and extremely giddy at the blatant luxury. Her feelings of appreciation intensified when she sat down on one of the white, deep, soft leather seats. There were no seat appointments in the jet, so why did Rufus choose to sit across her? She almost pouted. But he could throw her out (yay), so she thought better of it.

A stewardess came out and offered them champagne and a crystal bowl full of strawberries. The biggest, juiciest, reddest strawberries she'd ever seen. Rufus sipped casually.

"Some service," she commented, taking a strawberry.

"Better than first class," he dismissed, his flute empty.

The plane began to taxi towards the runway. It had been a while since she'd last ridden on a plane, so it was only natural that her nerves would be jangling and sending her belly flopping. If Rufus saw her tense, he did not comment. Soon the plane was ascending, and she felt her stomach dip. Once it was stable, she relaxed. They were flying _in, _slicing through clouds. Tifa watched the clouds part for the plane, sometimes she saw tiny puffs of dismembered cloud particles. The thought made her grin.

Rufus called for another flute of champagne, then quickly drained it. When the stewardess had reached the back, where Tseng and the other Turks were, he looked at her and said, "I have to talk to you."

_You already are_, Tifa thought. "Okay."

"Your role in this week's party is extremely important."

Oh, hooray, he was finally going to tell her why he'd chosen to torture her. Tifa raised her brows. How was being his shadow – no, those were his Turks, actually. Okay. So how was being his secretary in a party important? "I know."

A low chuckle escaped her boss's thin mouth. "No, sweetheart, you don't."

He met her eyes. Ice against wine. The look caused her heart to skip a beat.

"What do you mean I don't?" she asked, baffled.

Rufus leaned into his chair and folded his leg over the other. "Tell me, what do you know about my appointment as President?" His eyes were narrowed, challenging. Glinting.

Why was he asking her this now? "Your father had a cardiac arrest, so naturally you were going to be President." Tifa said, as if reciting.

He actually laughed. "Very good work, Tseng." he called out to the Turk Director behind them. It only confused Tifa more. She felt like she was being openly shamed, and she could not do anything about it. It was beginning to annoy her. Rufus's smile faded and returned to his more serious face. "No actually, I am not officially the President of my family's company yet." he told her. "I'm acting as the de-facto president."

Tifa's eyes widened. "What are you telling me?"

He folded his hands together. "My father wrote in his will that I had to be married before I took his seat as President. Are you beginning to understand?"

She furrowed his brows. He took a breath.

"But you're going to Costa del Sol... as the President..." she said weakly.

Rufus nodded, a ghost of a smile faintly tracing his thin mouth. "Yes, that's right."

"But you're not married." Tifa said slowly.

"Oh, but I am," Rufus said with a lilt of laughter in his voice. His faint little smile had turned into a full-blown wolfish smile. His eyes seemed to dance.

Tifa blinked. She swallowed to moisten her drying throat, heard the gulp. She had a feeling. A bad feeling about where this was leading to. Her heart was racing. Rufus was watching her steadily, coldly. Like how a lion would watch its prey. She wanted to look away, to look at anything else but him, but she felt like she had been paralyzed.

"To who?" she asked him, finally, before reaching for her champagne. The bubbles tickled her throat and her nose, made her feel a little dizzy. Or maybe it was just her situation making her think that...

Rufus leaned out of his chair. His wolfish smile unwavering.

"You."

* * *

**Victoria Chrystallis's Puff:**

_Thank you for reading! :)_

_We are so close to Big Bad Rufus Shinra, I promise. *wink wink _

_How'd you find this chapter? I hope you enjoyed it. _

_My thanks again to the ones who left reviews and put this on alert, on their fave list! Hmm... should I put up links to the dresses?_

_Have a good day now!_


	5. Turning Tables

**Chapter Five: Turning Tables**

* * *

_You._

She stared at the man sitting across her. He was looking right back at her, with a faint little smile playing along the lines of his mouth.

"Excuse me?" she managed.

"You heard me." he told her slowly. "You're not just my secretary now. You're my wife."

_Wife._

A motley of images flooded her mental theater.

Knowing looks, promising smiles. Entwined fingers. Entangled limbs, rumpled sheets. Intimate touches. Playful, passionate kisses. Whispered promises, shared dreams.

Love.

Passion.

Commitment.

Sex.

She blinked, shaking her head to shake out those images she had no right thinking of. Especially with her boss. She couldn't even imagine holding his _hand. _"How?" she asked him breathlessly.

A low chuckle emanated from his mouth.

Then, she felt ice racing in her veins. It all made sense now. All those things he'd done until this very moment was for his scheme. _This _was why he had suddenly turned his attention to her, his insignificant secretary. It was why he had asked her to address him by a more familiar, personal, manner. The puzzle was complete, and she did not like what she was seeing. With a heavy thud in her chest, Tifa now realized how ruthless Rufus Shinra could be. Tifa chewed the inside of her cheek. "Why me?"

He was lounging so comfortably, as if they weren't discussing anything important. As if they were simply making idle talk. There was an expression of arrogant amusement on his face. She wanted to wipe it off, with her fist. "Because you're a good choice," he said simply, flatly, "you have a passable pedigree. Because we haven't slept together. And, I am confident that you won't run your mouth because you'll know what's good for you and your family."

The casual way he'd dismissed her family hurt her. _Passable pedigree. _What the hell did he think he was comparing her to, _a racing chocobo? _She felt heat creep from her neck to her cheeks.

She stood up, startling him for a moment. "I'm going to need a moment."

Tseng was looking at her. Not intently. Simply looking. She couldn't read anything from it – he wasn't assessing her or anything. Elena and Cissnei were doing the same. They were watching her as she marched towards the restroom. But she was too mad to feel uncomfortable. Despite her flaring emotions, Tifa still managed to close the door gently.

She collapsed against the door, finally letting herself go. The harsh throbbing of her heart was loud in her ears. It was too much. It was impossible. She couldn't act as his wife. She couldn't feign love! She didn't like him. Didn't even know anything about him – hell, she didn't even know what he liked to eat. _Souls, probably. _Even if she wanted to, she knew she couldn't. She was still too damaged. It was too soon.

It was so unfair.

Why her, of all people?

What she wanted was a simple love affair. But she was too mature to yearn for the stuff romantic movies were made of. She wanted the kind that every woman aspired for.

She stared at the spotless floor and scowled.

She felt so embarrassed, so ashamed, so angry... so _small_.

Was she really so unworthy of sincere affection? Was this her karma for not passing on those stupid chain text messages, way back in college?

_Don't be stupid_, she admonished herself, _of course it's not because of that. _

What he wanted her to do was downright immoral. It went against all the things she believed to be good and true. She had standards, and dreams, and ideals. She only wanted to get married once. Like her mother. But Rufus would not understand that. For him, she was simply a pawn. Something he could use. Not someone. Because if she was someone to him, then perhaps he would have thought about her feelings. Her feelings of cheapness flooded her. Was that how he saw her? A cheap woman he could use for a price? She hadn't gone to school to be high class prostitute! He didn't respect anyone. He thought too highly of himself.

And by locking herself in this tiny cubicle, she now realized, she was letting him win.

Tifa rose to her feet and looked at her blushing reflection.

_Well, are you going to let him win? Are you simply just going to bow down to him?_

He had made sure that she had no way out of this. She didn't want to bow down and let him have his way. Hadn't she vowed to herself that she would no longer let men walk all over her?

She turned on the tap.

No, of course not. She had had enough of that shit from Cloud.

"So you want to play a game, huh?" she breathed as she dabbed her face dry. "I'll play." _And I'll show you that you chose to underestimate the wrong girl. _

Tifa turned off the tap and marched out of the restroom with a playful smile of her own. She slid on her chair with casual grace and looked at Rufus. "Alright, talk to me," she said with a lift of her chin. He met her change of attitude with a raise of a brow.

"Alright." Rufus said coolly, waving for the stewardess to refill his flute again. The bottle was already nearly empty. "Let me rest my case. First of all," he looked her straight in the eye, held hers, "I'm Rufus Shinra. And you already know what that means."

She wanted to laugh, but she managed to keep her composure. "Humor me."

"My very name would insure you a lifetime of prestige. Even if the marriage is short-lived, no one would dare cross someone so closely associated with me." Rufus told her with a lilt of laughter. "And of course the most obvious reason is that you'll be compensated handsomely."

Tifa sighed. "Stop. I know that you've already thought this out way ahead of now. I won't be able to say no, am I right?" She looked up at him, searching his eyes. But nothing flashed there. They were just steely, cloudy.

Cold.

"Yes. Put it this way... You help me, I help you. This isn't an offer you can refuse, my darling Miss Lockhart." Rufus said, the way her name rolled off his tongue was too smooth. "You'll be the wife of the most powerful man in the planet. What woman doesn't dream of this?"

She stood up. His eyes followed her.

_I'm not scared._

_You don't scare me._

_I can be as cold as you are._

Tifa stood in front of him. Their knees touched. He was gazing up at her with what she could only describe as surprised eyes. She reached out her hand and brushed the back of her hand across his smooth cheek. She looked down at him, and knew that he was just as bewildered as she was at what she had just done. "You are a sneaky bastard." she murmured before settling herself down on his lap. His body tensed as she pressed herself against him. She nuzzled the crook his neck, took in his scent... relished this rare moment that she was in control. Beneath her breast, she felt his heart's slow beating. She ran her fingers through his silky hair before wrapping her arms around him. His breathing hitched. She smirked then brushed her lips across his neck. "You ruthless, heartless monster."

He let out a breath then wrapped his own arms around her. "That I am." he whispered smoothly back to her. Their breaths mingled, fanned across each other's faces. Rufus's lips were hovering inches from hers. His lids were lowered as he looked at her.

She'd meant to unwind herself from him, but he was too strong. He kept her where she was, crushed against him.

"So, your answer, Tifa?" he asked, his eyes dancing.

He wanted to hear it.

He wanted her to say it.

Tifa didn't want to say it.

Rufus squeezed her tighter.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and inhaled his scent, felt it fill her lungs, felt herself get intoxicated. Intoxicated, scared.

All you need is 20 seconds of insane courage... she remembered. Where had she read that again?

"Yes," she whispered, "I'll do it."

His arrogant smile was pasted back on his face. He leaned closer to her, then whispered with a provocative lilt, "Good girl." He pressed his lips against hers for a moment before releasing her from the cage of his arms. Tifa stood up, knowing that she had just entered a greater prison.

Still in his seat, Rufus sat relaxed, calm, smiling.

Somehow Tifa felt that she had lost again.

* * *

"Now," Rufus said mildly, regarding her passively, from across the conference table, "I need you to read this contract, tell me if there is anything you wish to change. Although I am confident that you won't have much to complain about." Tseng was sitting between them quietly, hiding away his apprehension through a cool mask. A black leather binder lay in front of Tifa. This had been what Tseng was reading when she passed him earlier, she realized. She almost gave herself away when she froze from the faint kiss earlier, and even now, her knees were still weak.

Tifa opened the binder and began to read the terms and conditions of selling one's soul to the devil. It was a fairly long document, judging from its heftiness. But she was his secretary after all, so she had had gone through worse. "Right." she murmured tonelessly.

As she read the Non-Disclosure Agreement, she was acutely aware of the two men watching her silently. It made her muscles tense, being shoved into such unwanted attention so suddenly. Tseng's gaze wasn't as intense as Rufus's, that she knew with confidence. Or maybe that was the way he had been trained? Whatever it was, being focused on made turning the page an ordeal for her.

"No comments so far?" Rufus suddenly asked. There was indifference in his voice but she that he was curious. She looked up at him and saw that a corner of his mouth was lifted. All she could think of was scratching it off.

There was. A lot of things. But she didn't want to ask him... with Tseng present. She respected the other man too much to let him hear the stupid questions she had.

"No. I think all the conditions you've laid down here are..." she paused, trying to get the perfect word. It was in the tip of her tongue but it refused to fall. "Acceptable."

A soft laugh came from Rufus. Tseng looked her in the eye, as if asking, _did you really read the whole thing thoroughly? _Tifa uncapped the pen that came with the binder and signed her name on all the places it needed to be. She was crossing her 't' when Rufus stood up and sauntered towards her. She looked up at him through her lashes, a little startled. "What? I'm already finished signing," she hissed at him.

"I can see that," Rufus told her. His left hand was buried into his coat pocket.

With a deep sigh, Tifa closed the binder and handed it to Tseng. He took it quietly from her and rose from his seat. "I will be down the hall, if you need anything else, President... ma'am." He smiled faintly at Tifa before making his exit.

Grinning, Rufus got down on one knee.

"What are you doing?" she said quickly, eyes wide.

He raised a brow. "Doing the tradition, my dear. Isn't this one of the most pivotal moments in a woman's life? Contrary what you might be thinking, I'm still a gentleman." He paused. His mouth quirked upwards for a second. "Savor the moment because I won't ever do this again."

"Yes, it is... but because you're doing it for the pleasure of mocking me, it's not so special anymore." Tifa countered. She glared at him.

He reached out to cup her cheek. "Just smile, and give me your hand, baby."

_Baby. _She felt so mad at how casually he threw endearments at her.

His hand trailed down from her cheek to her neck to her arms. She wondered if it was just her imagination, but Rufus's hand seemed to leave a trail of goose flesh blossoming after it. With the barest of smiles, Rufus pulled her hand out to him and he slipped the rings onto her finger. "Hm..." he murmured lasciviously. "You better take good care of these rings. They cost quite a fortune." Rufus dropped her hand and got back on his feet.

Her hand felt so damned heavy. _"_You could have just gotten a_ tiny _solitaire. Did you want to break my finger?" Tifa asked him in her sweetest tone. She stared at the large pear-cut diamond on her finger. Next to it was simpler band, with only a single baguette diamond set on it. The wedding band was a little loose, but it wasn't loose enough to slide off. Nobody would notice.

Rufus took out his ring and slipped it on. It was set in platinum, identical with her own. "Then nobody would believe that I have affections for you," Rufus laughed, "honestly, isn't that all you women dream about? Huge rings?"

She wanted to sucker punch him with her ring-laden fist. "Hmm... it'll be a great substitute for brass knuckles." Tifa told him. "Want me to give you a sample?"

His face grew dark. "Try to hide away your uncouth behavior, Lockhart. You're my wife now, act like it." He said this to her softly, but there was menace in his tone.

_Uncouth. _

A blush spread through her face. She straightened up and replaced her dumbstruck expression with a pleasant one. "I'm sorry, darling," she told him, her voice sugared. He looked at her another moment before stalking off.

Finally left alone, Tifa tried to calm herself down.

His wife.

It was going down into her personal history, into the world's history, that she was Rufus Shinra's wife. Everyone was going to know about it and they would throw her into a microscope. Everything was going to change from now on. Did she really want it? No. But it was too late to tell him she wanted out. She couldn't even tell her family about her situation. She was going to suffer alone, in silence. For 365 days. Her eyes began to sting but she mustered all the strength she had not to let them fall. Her brave little resolve in the restroom was crumbling, fast.

Soft footsteps approached her. Tifa stiffened.

"Wow. That's some serious _bling!"_ It was Elena.

Tifa smiled weakly at the young Turk who sat down next to her. "Yeah, it sure is something." She held out her hand so the Turk could ogle it more closely. "For someone who doesn't mean anything to him, he sure has spent a lot."

"You might be surprised with your value right now." Elena said quietly. "Right now you are the President's key to unlocking the one thing that's in his way. You're quite important, if you ask me." She smiled shyly at Tifa. "Would you like me to get you a drink from the bar? You should at least get to enjoy your last hours of freedom..."

She nodded. "I think I'd like a Cosmo."

"Got it!" Elena said with a wink, before running out.

A tiny smile appeared on Tifa's mouth. At least... someone had a bit of heart here. She would have asked for a straight up beer, but she had an inkling that Rufus wouldn't approve. He would tell her that she was uncouth again.

Turns out she only had four hours left of freedom.

* * *

He could have been at least considerate enough to leave her alone for the remaining hours of her freedom, but _no_. They had many things to discuss, they had to get their stories straight, he said. Tifa did not want to talk to him, to see him. She wanted to be left alone so she could mourn her soul. He set a whiskey glass before her and poured some for her. Event he way he poured seemed sophisticated, different from how bartenders would, and it annoyed Tifa. He sat down across her again.

"So," Tifa began, "what's our story? I don't want the trashy boss-secretary relationship." She rolled the glass, watched the ice ball roll around the glass.

Rufus chuckled. "I'm glad you don't want to settle for such a trashy story as well."

She raised her brow.

"You've been working in the Urban Development department before you were transferred to me, correct?"

She nodded. "I've been there for a year." _  
_

"Then let's just say that I met you a year ago. In a company party."

"You asked me out?" Tifa asked, almost timidly.

He chuckled. "Yes, I was inviting to my office for a quick fuck."

A blush crept across her face and a scowl formed on her mouth. "I refused, then immediately feared for my life."

Rufus laughed loudly. "Interesting story we've got so far. So you're not one for one night stands then?"

Tifa looked at him pointedly. "Let's get back to making this story."

He gave a non-committing shrug. "Ah, but you were the first woman to refuse me so naturally you had me intrigued, is this what we're getting at?" There was amusement in his voice. He was enjoying this. Tifa looked up at him and saw that his eyes were bright, glossy... enticing. "How long did I have to woo you to get you to have dinner with me, Lockhart?"

A _decade_. A _thousand years_. _Never_. "Two months?" she suggested lamely.

"Hard to get, are you?" Rufus chuckled. "You're making yourself too special. I wouldn't go after a woman that long."

Tifa took a sip of the whiskey. "You wanted me badly."

Rufus was looking at with narrowed eyes as he brought his whiskey glass to his lips. Like a wolf waiting for the perfect moment to pounce and devour. "Hmm, I wonder... what do you think would have been so enticing about you that got me so mad about you?" He was assessing her again. "I certainly would like to have a taste of this delicacy you're turning yourself into." He licked his upper lip and winked.

For a moment she stiffened. Was she letting it on too thick?

"Don't blush." Rufus snapped at her.

Tifa frowned, cleared her throat. "Moving on..."

With a smirk, Rufus said, "When you finally agreed, I took you to the family lodge. The Cliff Resort - are you familiar with it? That's where we always meet. Usually on weekends, some late nights." He spoke slowly, as if he relished saying them. _The late nights. _His voice held so much promise.

Tifa rested her face on her palm and looked at him. "How many women have you brought there?"

"Stop asking tacky questions."

"But I want to know."

A deep, shaky sigh escaped Rufus. "None. I don't bring women to family homes. I meet them in hotels." His ears were pink. Tifa thought that maybe he didn't talk about his affairs, and it made him uncomfortable. She grinned.

"Not even Scarlet?"

He glowered at her. "No, not even that woman. Now, how did I propose?"

Tifa frowned. Why was he making her decide these things?

"Let's see..." she started quietly. "We were in the middle of dinner, I guess. How long did we date?"

His glass was empty now. "Eight months, I suppose. We got married in Domino's office two months ago." He was looking right at her, challenging her to add anything else. "I have a brilliant idea." Rufus said too enthusiastically. "Old Man died when we finally told him." He erupted in laughter.

"That's not funny..." she muttered.

"Oh honey it is," he said in between breaths, "very, very funny."

She didn't see what Rufus found funny about his father's death. She didn't understand how someone could laugh at their parent's death. Anger flared in her chest. "Why the hell are you so happy about your father's death?" she all but shouted at him.

"Because, I hate him," was Rufus's answer, dead serious. His cheeks were slashed with color again, and the sight of a rosy-cheeked Rufus was almost endearing, if only he hadn't said something so wrong. Tifa did not press on, instead she sighed.

Ruthless, heartless indeed.

He let out a breath, sighed, then rose from his seat. "You should too. If it wasn't for my Dad, we wouldn't be in this mess." He raked his hand through his hair as he stood in front of her. He held her eyes then, caged her to the seat with his arms. Tifa stared at him, feeling a little scared. His cologne mingled with the whiskey. Laughing softly, he grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulled and drew her face up at him. "How about I taste you now?" he asked before pressing his lips on hers.

Tifa's eyes widened as his lips continued to mesh against her own. Her lips were clamped into a hard line. Rufus looked down at her with glinting eyes, pulled her hair harder. It hurt, her lips parted slightly. He kissed her slowly. Playfully. Gently. Cloud had never kissed her this way. She moved against him, intoxicated. His hand wandered to her cheeks to her throat, down to her breasts. She gasped against his mouth, felt his smile.

She pressed her palms on his chest and pushed him away. "Stop," she breathed.

Rufus smiled down at her, amused. "Aw baby don't get angry," he breathed. His breath fanned her face, "we've done this a hundred times before, haven't we?" he chuckled in her ear before moving away from her.

* * *

**Victoria Chrystallis's Puff:**

_Okay. I was listening to Adele the entire time I was writing this - and like, lip syncing with strong emotions. Hence, the title. _

_I hope you enjoyed reading! I had a... hard, but fun time writing. On to chapter six! _:D  
_I will be posting links to the rings, if you can't imagine them. I think I'm excessive. But eh. Hahaha.  
_

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, favorited and gave it a chance! _

_Hmm... and also, if _Guest_ is still reading: Of course Tifa would have good office clothes, but Rufus was looking for clothes suited for Costa del Sol at the time. __Moreover, I think his standards are just incredibly high on stuff. /Rambles into silence_

_Okay. Till the next chapter, everyone! Thank you again for reading! _

_Have a good day!_


	6. Junon

**Chapter Six: Junon**

* * *

To say that she surprised him would be an understatement.

He felt annoyed, amused, and incensed. The cocktail of unfamiliar emotions stirred in him, diffusing a fiery sensation everyplace. He wasn't accustomed to having his plans disorganized. Tifa Lockhart, he decided with a faint grimace, was a walking perplexity. An uncharted territory.

In the first stage of the scheme, Rufus had never considered the possibility that she would rebel against him. Refuse to give in.

He had dismissed her as nothing more than a pawn. Another indistinguishable peon who would kowtow to him, no questions asked. Another fool he could so easily intimidate, rule with fear, and use to his convenience.

This was a fatal blunder, he loathed to admit.

Rufus had expected her to the obedient tool she always had been to him. A timid cub. Instead, she shed her obedience, bared her teeth, and defied him. It was as though she was a tiny wolf cub trying to overpower the pack's alpha male. The war she had waged was a futile fight. But nonetheless, promising.

She had turned their simple game into a complicated competition of ego, power, and sensuality.

A part of him felt thrilled.

She had simplified the game, and at the same time, made it more elaborate.

How could he ever refuse her challenge?

The prize was alluring.

Her submission.

He was going to teach her a lesson. A lesson that Rufus thought was common knowledge: _No one defies Rufus Shinra._

* * *

"Good morning all, this is your pilot speakin'. We've begun our descent to Junon airbase. We'll be in gate one in thirty minutes."

It was Reno speaking through the intercom.

Tifa woke up, wholeheartedly hoping that the earlier events were all a dream. But upon seeing Rufus sitting directly in front of her, all hope perished. He was looking out of the window. With his eyes downcast and mouth set in a hard line, he looked as if he were thinking disdainful thoughts. She shifted as quietly as she could in her seat. Her muscles were beginning to ache from being inert for hours. As she stretched out her legs, Rufus turned his gaze over to her.

"I thought I would have to wake you." he said quietly, his face acceding from its earlier contemptuous mold. "We're landing soon. I would suggest that you prepare yourself." Rufus gave her an incisive, knowing look.

Taking in a deep breath, Tifa headed back to the restroom to steel herself, and to reapply her war paint.

Staring at her more polished reflection, Tifa tried to stay calm. They were landing. Their charade was going to start the moment they stepped out of the jet. She was no longer just the forgettable secretary to the president. She was going to be his wife. Terror washed over in an icy wave, held her heart hostage with icicles. She was going to someone her parents would hate – a liar. Tifa closed her eyes, shut herself off, heaved out a breath. She looked at her reflection again before returning to her seat.

The jet landed with a slight bump.

"Any time you're ready, Lockhart." Rufus murmured softly as he stood beside her chair. They were alone in the jet now, as the others had made it a point to leave as quickly as possible. He was surveying her with narrowed, emotionless eyes. There was slight tilt in the shape of his mouth.

"I am. How about you?" Tifa answered coolly, rising from the chair. She reached out to touch the side of his face, then ran her fingertips down his neck, to the point his skin disappeared under his dress shirt. That was all she had planned, but before she could take her hand away from him, he grabbed it. In one fluid moment, he was kissing her forefinger. Lightly grazing the pad of her finger. He opened his eyes and grinned wolfishly as he dropped her hand. "Of course." Rufus laughed.

She glowered at him as he tucked her arm in his.

"Smile, you're about to become a star." He told her with a surprisingly comic voice as they walked to the door.

The cold wind slapped Tifa harshly. It smelled faintly of salt and something else wholly awful. She mustered all her self-control to not gag. Next to her, Rufus was nonchalant and was judging the welcoming party below with eyes more wintry than the air berating them. His coat fluttered wildly.

On the tarmac, a squadron of SOLDIER and the Shin-Ra Executives were waiting dutifully down the tarmac road. In the distance, Shin-Ra's Junon headquarters was ablaze with all its lights on, still a sight for sore eyes. This was how the Shinras liked to see their money. Search lights pierced the dawn sky. Overwhelmed by the display, Tifa tightened her grasp on Rufus's arm. He let out an amused breath and began to lead her down the stairs.

"Nervous now, are we?" he whispered to her.

"You can't blame me."

"You'll get used to it. But I wouldn't suggest it." He smiled cockily at her, his brow quirked upwards.

They were standing in front of the Executives now. "President Shinra, welcome back to Junon." they said reverentially, bowing their heads slightly. The sight of Scarlet bowing was something Tifa didn't really want to see again. The plunging neckline hung a little loosely when she did, leaving almost _nothing _to the imagination. When they resumed their upright stances, their eyes were all trained on Tifa. Their curious attention made Tifa want to squirm. Rufus nodded to every one of them, "It's good to meet you again, all of you."

Heidegger held out his hand first to Rufus. He was heavily built, and Tifa thought he was the military version of Santa Claus. Rufus grasped the executive's large hand and shook it firmly. "President Shinra, we really would feel better if you had chosen to ride the Gelnika! But of course your jet's just as safe. I'm sure that your trip was pleasant?" he boomed.

"Yes, it was very pleasant." Rufus answered coolly.

The former-military man turned to her now. His eyes landed on her chest, his beady eyes widened for a moment, and by the way his cheeks lifted, he smiled. Then he saw the rings. "Might she be your wife, President?"

Rufus turned his head to look at her. His eyes were gleaming, suddenly warm. "Everyone, this is my wife, Tifa," he announced loudly, slowly. He smiled at Tifa, and she smiled right back at him.

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit! Fuck! This is all happening too fast! Tifa moaned in her head.

Beaming, Heidegger extended his hand to her. She had barely touched his palm when he closed his around hers, possibly bruising her tender hand in the process. "Aren't you a beauty! It's a pleasure to meet you, Madame Shinra. Gyaa haa haa!" His laugh caused her to flinch, and Rufus to sigh heavily.

"Still haven't worked on that laugh, have you, Heidegger?" Rufus commented, before moving on to Scarlet.

Scarlet looked Rufus in the eye before holding her hand out. "It's good to see you again, Rufus."

Tifa's breath hitched. There was something in the way that Scarlet said his name that alarmed her. Watching the older woman now, there was also something in her tight smile. They definitely had a history. She had known it, of course, but now that the matter was being played out in front of her, Tifa still felt shocked.

"You didn't even invite us to your wedding! So cold... _kyaa haa haa!" _Scarlet was still holding on to his hand, even after they had finished shaking hands. "Oh! Congratulations, you lucky, lucky _girl!" _she screeched as she turned to face Tifa. What was with Shin-Ra Executives and crushing hands? Tifa wondered. Suddenly, Scarlet yanked her hand closer, so she could take a good look at the rings. "My my!" she said with an insolent tone. The woman's eyes were narrowed, clearly conveying murderous intent.

"We kept it secret." Rufus veered her away from Scarlet before the woman could crush Tifa's hand. "I believe it's time that we headed out."

Momentarily discomfited, the female Executive retaliated by loudly saying, "Oh, of course, of course! Let's go to the headquarters now." In an attempt to sound more welcoming, Scarlet's voice rose an octave. "And Tifa – oh I'm sorry, _madame _Shinra, I'm looking forward to hearing your love story over breakfast later." She smiled in an almost feral way before strutting towards her idling vehicle. Even the way she swayed her hips told Tifa that the woman was pure evil.

Tseng had car's rear door open for them to enter when they approached. Tifa clambered in, feeling relieved. Rufus slid in after her, and kept a respectable distance. The overhead light turned off when Tseng began to drive. Tifa let out a soft sigh. Submerged in darkness, Tifa felt comfortable. Safer. She couldn't see Rufus. He said something, but she didn't hear.

* * *

She hadn't expected that they were stopping over to his former residence. What Tifa had expected was that they would be heading straight to the headquarters to finalize the details of the press conference.

He climbed out of the car then held out his hand for her to grasp. She took it, and found that she still wasn't used to the coldness of his hand. There wasn't much time to look up and study the facade of the building, but from the brief eyefuls she managed to get, it was beautiful. The doorman greeted them and bowed. The lobby was breathtaking, and Tifa would have loved to just stand there to take in every tiny detail. But Rufus was having none of that, as he strode straight to the elevator.

It was no surprise that he would have the penthouse. The whole place was minimally furnished, monochromatic. His residence was not in harmony with the building's chateau-esque architectural style. It was all glass, white leather, dark wood, and steel. There were two large abstract paintings behind the couch, and its colors were a welcome sight for Tifa.

She strode towards the window, arms folded across her chest. "So this is Junon." she said under her breath. The city below was beginning to wake. It was so neatly organized – the city looked like a model city for a story book, arranged neatly in orderly rows, in a shelf. This was how Shin-Ra wanted its constituents – in line. Without a doubt, this was how Rufus wanted her, as well. The sky was like a watercolor painting, a mixture of pale pink, pastel oranges, splotches of purple, faint yellows and light blue. She hadn't seen anything like it before, and she stood there, totally captivated by the sight. The sight was a coveted luxury, reserved only for those living above – literally. She couldn't help but smile.

"You look like a blind person seeing the sun for the first time." Rufus commented behind her, his voice laced with amusement.

Tifa all but jumped. She turned to face him. "Don't you think that that's amazing?" she asked him softly.

He furrowed his brows, looked at her as if she were a lunatic. "What's so special about the sky?" he asked her flatly. Sunlight was beginning to trickle in from the window. Being closer to him now, Tifa saw the tiny, faint speckles of freckles scattered across his face. A sly smile curved his mouth. "I'd like to have a word with you." he said quietly.

"What about?" Tifa asked him.

Rufus took a step closer to her. She took one in turn, a feeble attempt to maintain the tiny space between them. He was smiling wolfishly. She felt the cold glass through her silk blouse. With two lean, strong fingers, he lifted her chin, tilted it upwards so she would meet his gaze. He wound his arm around her, pulled her to him. Her breasts collided, flattened, against his chest. Their thighs melded into each other. He leaned closer, then whispered, "The word is sex."

Her breathing hitched, her eyes widened, her heart skipped a beat. Alarm spread all over her body in hot pinpricks.

His eyes had mischief twinkling in them.

"What we're going to have, Lockhart," he continued, "is a purely physical game."

He trailed his fingers down her throat, as she had done earlier, then deftly unbuttoned the first button of her blouse. Tifa tried hard not to take in deep, deep lungfuls of air as his hand brushed her breast. He was taking his time. Knew what kind of sensation he was evoking. Something deep within her flinched.

Then his hand traveled upwards again, cupping her face.

She was aware of his fingertips near her left eye, over her cheekbone, and his thumb pressed along her jawline. His jaw was clenching. There was a faint spray of color spreading through his face. His lids were lowered as he stared at her exposed cleavage. She grinned and reached out to touch his face.

"Oh?" she said huskily. Beneath her fingers, she felt his steadily increasing heat. His eyes flicked upwards to meet hers, curiosity and surprise burning in them. She lifted a corner of her mouth. "Well?"

Rufus was staring at her. He looked dangerous.

Tifa could feel the uneven rhythm of his breathing and hers. Coming together, awkwardly crushing the other, then falling apart. Not entirely in sync. He smiled wolfishly, then bit his bottom lip as he leaned in to close the tiny space between them. He started slowly, like he had before, then groaned. She smiled against his mouth and kissed him back. She felt something go through her, down her legs, then rush back up again, as he reclaimed her lips. Over and over. She opened her mouth to him more each time and his tongue dipped into hers every time. They were breathing hard. Inhaling each other's essences, feeling one another's heat. Her hands had traveled down to his chest, then up, to his neck, his shoulders, in time with their rhythm. Her hands were on his bare skin. Rufus took a step backwards, leading her away from the window. The edge of the couch made contact with the backs o her knees and they fell there.

Pinning her beneath him, Rufus continued thrusting deeper into her mouth. Plunging into her over and over. Harder. Faster. She made a small noise in the back of her throat. She moaned again, and the sound echoed through him. He pulled away from her.

Their ragged breaths collided like the waves of two oceans in the tiny space between their lips. Rufus stood up, staring down at her. She was a little dazed, her lips swollen. He couldn't help but grin as he looked at her. She was breathing heavily, splayed before him, and not caring.

His eyes fell to her parted lips. He wanted more of it. But if he kissed her again, the game would be over.

Now what?

A low chuckle from Rufus pulled Tifa back from wherever her mind had wandered off to.

He was towering over her. The way he was watching her now, predatory and concentrated, was a silent kind of domination. He was in his element. A satisfied smirk misted his flushed face.

She struggled to regain the rhythm of her breathing. With a sinking feeling in her gut, she knew that she had just let him win. Again. Tifa refused to shy away from his judging eyes. She sat up, not fully trusting her legs yet.

He extended one long arm to touch her face. Cupping it again, he told her softly, "We'll talk about it another time. Why don't you go rest? It's going to be a long day." The smirk had muted itself into a small curve. His eyes were still gleaming, clouded. "The bedroom's upstairs." He walked to the adjacent room, leaving her alone.

Thankful for the solitude, Tifa all but ran to the stairs.

There was only one bedroom, she discovered. Well... that was the only assumption she could come up with, since the other doors had been locked. Even this room, just like the rest of his penthouse, was impersonal. There were no personal effects lying around to soften the stark propriety of the room. She rolled up the blinds, letting the sun stream in, setting the already bright, immaculate room ablaze. Tifa sank to the bed, feeling utterly exhausted.

Just as she was finally getting herself to sleep, she heard him enter the room. Felt the sheets lift, the mattress shift to his weight. Sensed the heat radiating from his body, his breath prickling the shell of her ear. Laughter laced his quiet voice when he spoke. "Sleep well, Lockhart."

* * *

Rufus was buckling his belt when sleep receded from Tifa. His dress shirt was open, revealing his smooth and taut torso. Chiseled, well-defined... supple. Muscular, but not in the grotesque way that body builders were. He looked like one of those men that art students loved to sketch. She already knew that he was well-built, but seeing him so sparsely covered sent her reeling. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, took a deep breath, and steeled herself.

_You're acting like an insipid simpleton_, she chided herself. _Why are you so bothered? You've seen Cloud naked before... although... you have to admit, they're totally different from each other. _

His eyes wandered to her direction, and a smug smirk curved his lips. "I thought I'd have to wake you." he said coolly as he began buttoning his shirt. "Hurry up and get ready." Rufus pointed at the dress laid out on the chaise. "Wear that."

Tifa wanted to tell him off that she was perfectly capable of dressing herself, but decided against it. It was childish. She was probably letting them run late already. "How long was I asleep?" she asked him quietly as she stood, collecting the dress and her tote bag in quick succession.

"Two hours." he said, watching her traipse to the adjacent bathroom.

The ceiling length mirror was still fogged up, the air moist and fragrant with the smell of his soap and shampoo. There was a trail of water droplets from the shower. Despite her discomfort, Tifa couldn't resist taking in deep breaths. She stepped into the shower, let the hot water stream over her. The sound of water raining down on her thundered over her senses. Tifa ran her hands across her body, leaving a faint trail of soap that immediately washed off.

Snippets of their kiss hurled themselves at her. Hit her like punches.

Idly she wondered how he would be like, as a lover. Would he treat the one he loved differently... warmly? Or would he still be cold and controlling?

Heat rushed down to her core like quicksilver. Her knees, her legs felt weak. Then her whole body trembled.

She had to take a series of deep breaths to recollect her composure. She shouldn't lose herself so easily. It was just a kiss... With a shaky breath, Tifa turned off the shower and stepped out. Swiping her hand across the steamed mirror, Tifa primed herself.

If she kept losing her control... her senses when he played with her, he would win. He would use everything against her, to make her follow. In every game, there was always going to be a winner and a loser. The stakes were too high for her. She had too much to lose, and he had none. Winners receive rewards, and losers get punished. Winning was the primary goal. For the both of them. And he was a very good opponent. She felt a little scared, worked up. Tifa shook her head. She had to play her cards right, if she wanted to protect her heart, her soul, her sanity.

Her body...

Well... that was the weapon. He knew how to use his body to his advantage, and she worried that she'd gotten rusty from the shortage of fine tuning._ Fuck you so much, Cloud!_

She stared at her reflection as she finished primping. Her hair was damp, and there was no hair dryer, but she didn't want it simpy hang loose. It was far too long, and would transfer the water to her clothes, so she twisted her locks and pinned it securely in place. She had applied minimal make up. To her amusement, Rufus had picked out a dress from her own wardrobe, not from the set he bought. It had hung in the very back of her closet for years now. Tifa had bought it in a whim then, but never found the chance to wear it... until now.

_Nothing remotely suitable, hm? _Tifa thought smugly.

Walking back into the bedroom, she saw Rufus ruminating. But the staccato of her pumps made him look up. He gave a nod of approval before rising. "Now you're making me wonder why you don't make this much effort in the office, Lockhart." Rufus murmured as they left.

"It's just that you never looked."

* * *

They could already hear the trill of Scarlet's hair-raising cackle before they entered the lounge.

Tifa took a deep breath, steeling herself for the show she was about to put on. Next to her, Rufus stood confidently. The tweed suit he'd opted to change into made him an arresting sight. The slim fit of the suit magnified his graceful movements. His arm was around her waist. As they entered, the idle talk died down. The Executives were watching them make their way towards the long table set especially for their little group.

"What took you so long, President?" Heidegger bluntly said the moment the couple had taken their seats. "Lost track of time? Gyaa haa haa!" His beady eyes settled on Tifa again. His appraisal was a hundred times made Tifa a hundred times uncomfortable. Rufus chuckled softly, lifting one of the corners of his mouth wolfishly before giving Tifa a knowing look. _Go along with it, _his eyes seemed to say. Tifa forced herself to smile back with the same breezy confidence her partner exuded.

Scarlet laced her fingers together before training her narrowed eyes at Tifa.

"Funny I never heard about you before, ma'am." The older woman all but spat the last word. There was venom in her tone. She was obviously not one for idle talk. She smiled at Tifa, but there was no feeling in her eyes. "Although I'm sure it's quite a fairy tale story."

Rufus reached for Tifa's left hand, gave it a kiss, ensuring that everyone would see the rings. He turned to Scarlet with an amused smirk. "Some things are just meant to be had in private, Scarlet," he said smoothly, "and she wasn't exactly an easy catch." He squeezed her hand minutely.

"Oh yes... we preferred to keep things secret." Tifa said, leaning in to plant a swift little peck on his shoulder. "It seemed more proper. Considering that I had only just begun working in the company and his position then..." He glanced at her, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Scarlet's brow shot up as she took a sip of her coffee. "Only begun working in the company? Well! You seem to have such great luck! Meeting the VP and getting him to lust after you so quickly, kyaa haa haa! How'd you meet?"

Rufus had flinched when she laughed. Tifa did her best not to let the judgment Scarlet was subtly hinting get under her skin. It was not true. "I was getting another drink in the bar during the unveiling party of the Hardy Daytona." she lied smoothly. They had discussed everything – every last detail. The Hardy Daytona party was the only party they had attended mutually. In reality the first time they had met was during his first day as President. "He came on to me, intensely flirting. But I turned him down that night. It wasn't until he stood in the podium that I realized I was an idiot."

"Mm, yes, I remember that," Rufus purred, "you called me a sick pervert."

Heidegger laughed loudly, much to the chagrin of the couple. Scarlet began coughing.

"Baby I don't think they needed to know..." Tifa told him quietly, stepping on his shoe. They had not discussed that!

"Oh it's alright, baby. They did want to know how we met, after all." Rufus told her, smiling. His fingers were digging into her thigh.

When Scarlet recovered, she continued her prodding. "So what then, the two of you just fell in love?" The sneer in the woman's voice was obvious, as was the disbelief. Her brows furrowed, her lips were pressed to a thin line.

"We can put it that way." Tifa said, raising the mug of coffee to her lips. She glanced over at Rufus, who was now in a deep conversation with Heidegger about the army. His face was completely different as he discussed matters he was more familiar with. There was a different gleam in his eyes. He was listening to the executive's ramblings thoughtfully. Tifa returned her gaze to Scarlet and gave her a small smile. A smile insinuating knowledge, power, and confidence. Nothing she felt at all. She was nothing more than an outsider. The two executives might be obnoxious and completely ill-mannered, but they were the ones in charge of ensuring Shin-Ra's power, of protecting their assets. And Rufus... he was going to be one that decided on everything. The world depended heavily on the company – on him.

They were all important.

She felt totally insignificant.

* * *

The sudden burst of motion disoriented Tifa as she slid out of the car, following Rufus, into the headquarters. Professional television cameras and DSLR cameras concentrated solely on Rufus, transmitting the image to their respective networks and to the screens installed all over the city. But the focus swerved to Tifa almost immediately. And without a doubt, to the rock and the band that adorned her left hand. Rufus ignored the flashing lights, the microphones and portable voice recorders thrust to his direction, and kept his hold on Tifa's hand firm. There was already a set time and place for their questions.

Tseng led them to the second floor, where the press room was.

"You should stay back with Tseng." Rufus suddenly told her, releasing her hand. They were standing in front of the press room's door.

Somehow, Tifa sensed that Rufus had slipped on a different persona. His posture, if even possible, had become even more austere than usual. His lips had disappeared into a thin line. His eyes looked colder, more standoffish. _This _Rufus Shinra she recognized. "Okay." Tifa muttered, taking a step away from him. She looked at his rigid posture and wondered if he felt nervous.

"I will meet you later." he told her, before the doors began to part. Thundering applause and the sound of a hundred or so cameras snapping photos met the young president.

When the doors were closed, Tseng turned to her. "I have to talk to you."

She looked up at the Turk and nodded. She felt relief from being away from Rufus, and a little anxious. What did Tseng want to talk to her about?

"Then please follow me." Tseng turned his heel and began stalking off from the press room.

* * *

**Victoria Chrystallis's Puff:**

_I had originally planned to land them directly in Costa del Sol, but my current plot made this stop at Junon important. Hahaha. Would you believe me if I told you that I had actually prepared an itinerary for the company's anniversary party? It both organizes and complicates things, really. I rewrote this chapter three times, so I'm sorry for the little delay! Though I hope you found the wait worth it. __Still having fun? ;)_

_Do you think I should raise the rating now? _

_There's a new link, if you want to check that out, as well._

_Also, I've been squinting at the pictures of Junon for long, weird periods of time while I was writing. Hahaha. I don't know if it's just me or... did they put The Plaza Residences in New York in one of the streets? Hm._

_Thank you for reading... for giving this a chance, if you're a new reader. __I'd like to thank everyone for the feedback that this fic has so far. It really means a lot. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! Okay, I should at least reply to some of you who left questions (or left me wondering). _

Guest no. 1 - I'm sorry for confusing you. Did Tifa appear attracted to him already in the last chapter? (o_o;)  
Guest no. 2 - Aw, don't sweat it. Your words didn't strike me in that manner, tbh.  
Anonsomething - What's _pmkn_ supposed to stand for? Ahaha. /clueless  
Frankannestein - I wonder which part of it you liked best. My current favorite is Rufus's contribution. Hahaha!

_I hope you enjoyed reading chapter six! _

_Moving on to chapter seven now...! See (read) you next time!_ _Have a good day now!_

_*6/6 - 8/14 - _Thank you to Frankannestein for pointing out this chapter's roughness. I hope everything's patched up now. :)


	7. Sink or Swim

**Chapter Seven: Sink or Swim**

* * *

"I'm sorry it had to be you."

The Turk leader told her this quietly, as he met her eyes. If this was an effort to convey sincerity, Tifa was not entirely sure. There was no emotion in his features to assure her. He had led her into a conference room a few halls away from the press room.

"How do you feel?"

_Like drowning, but I'm the only one who knows. I've been doing this for years._

She cast her eyes down on the polished tabletop to avoid his unwavering look. How did she _feel? _She couldn't think straight, that was one. Another possible answer was that she didn't know what she was actually feeling. The motley of emotions and sensations that churned within her made her feel intoxicated, confused, and sick. But how could she tell this man that? He would report it back to Rufus, who in turn, would laugh and dismiss it. Her tongue felt like it had been coated with lead, and the strain stemmed down to the back of her mouth, to her throat. Balling up her fists, she forced herself to speak. "My feelings do not matter in this arrangement, Sir."

"Don't call me Sir." Tseng told her, a smile ghosting his otherwise lifeless face. "It's good to know you're aware that they don't."

She fidgeted in her chair. "Is that all you had to tell me?"

"No."

"Then what else?"

Tseng settled into one of the chairs and took a quick breath. "The President was a little concerned that you hadn't read the papers you signed, and he wanted me to fully brief you."

She glanced at him, incredulous.

"You're only a means to an end, Miss Lockhart, so please try not to take things personally." he told her flatly.

Of course she knew it, from the moment she had agreed. But hearing it said out loud still stung her. Keeping one thing as a thought and setting it free to be a part of history were two completely, drastically different things. Now she was never going to be able to forget. It was going to haunt her forever. No matter how much she would want to bury it, it would still come for her in the dead of the night when she was old and dying. And hearing it voiced out in Tseng's monotone voice didn't help mitigate the sharp slap on her pride.

"Why did you agree?" he asked, unaffected.

Tifa sighed and finally slouched. "Let's put it this way... I was a fly who realized too late that she'd been caught in a web."

He let out an amused breath and nodded minutely. "Miss Lockhart, let me tell you what you've signed yourself into."

She swallowed the tiny lump in her throat. "Okay."

"Now that you carry the Shinra name, you get everything that comes with it. The privileges, and the death threats." Tseng began. "You cannot leave without Elena or any other Turk accompanying you. Give me the list of your contacts, and please list down all the personal effects you wish to have brought to the President's home. Give me the list tomorrow."

"Why do I have to do that?" she interjected.

"Security purposes." Tseng said curtly. "Next, if you should ever conceive while the contract is still valid, you will be granted to raise the child for seven years, as the law mandates. The President will provide child support amounting to two hundred thousand gil yearly until the child is seven. When the child reaches the age of seven, all custodial rights are to be transferred to him, and you will only get visitation rights. If, of course, there will be a child."

Her stomach somersaulted. A child... with Rufus? At twenty!? The thought of having a child hadn't crossed her mind yet, until now. A chill ran down her spine. The idea was absurd. She sucked in deep breathes to steady herself. A child was too much responsibility. A child was something you prepared a whole lot for. And you only have a child with the man you _truly_ love, not with a man who basically trapped you into agreeing to be his wife! She felt pity, remorse, disgust, and horror mixing in with the sickening cocktail swirling in her core. "Why the hell would I have a child with that man?" she all but yelled at Tseng, who flinched at the sudden noise. "You people are asking for too much! A child isn't a thing you can buy!_"_

Tseng only raised his brow at her. "Please tone down your voice, Miss Lockhart. This is merely a precaution. However, it is high time that you understand that Shin-Ra is not a company that abides by ethics. It will do whatever it can, through any method, to get what it wants. Do not mistake Shin-Ra as a gentle conglomerate. It is not, and it never has been, although it's always been good at keeping appearances. Let's take your arrangement as an example." He paused for a moment. "President Shinra only sees you as a means to an end. It is nothing personal, it's not about you at all. This is completely petty, compared to the real operations of the company."

She felt the clutch at her throat, but she strangled the sob. She felt blindingly infuriated. She hated everyone. She didn't trust herself to speak. If she did, she was sure that she would betray herself by the roughness of her voice, thus selling herself out. Her knuckles were white as she clutched the arm rests. This... was more than she had ever bargained. She had only thought that it was going to be a game. It pissed her off more that Rufus already knew that there was no game, and yet he let her play. She felt extremely ridiculous.

Tseng made no indication of acknowledging her growing distress. Instead, he plowed on.

"The third salient point that you have to know, Miss Lockhart, is that you must do your best to keep yourself in the masses' good graces. This is your other purpose – to engage the public in the way that the President cannot."

She frowned. It was a miracle that she'd been able to keep a straight face for so long. "What do you mean _engage the public? _You want me to be what?"

"Humanize the Shinra family. Have you ever heard of the urban legend about your husband?" He said, smiling faintly again. "The people in the streets murmur that nobody's ever seen him bleed, or cry."

Tifa exhaled loudly. As rudely as she could. "Well of course. The Shinras are the closest thing to royalty in this age. Their wealth separates them massively from the rest. It's like they live in a different planet..."

A soft chuckle came from Tseng. "But I've seen him bleed. I've seen him cry." He cleared his throat. "But indeed, he hasn't done any of that for a very long time. It's like he allowed himself to be the ivory prince everyone seems to think he is."

Her brows furrowed as she tried to envision what Tseng was painting out for her. Rufus, the ivory prince? He appealed to her more as the soulless tyrant.

Tseng rested his chin on his interlaced fingers. "I believe that only the President can lead Shin-Ra Inc., do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because he was bred for it."

_Bred_. Not schooled, taught. Not polished. But bred. _Cultured, developed, shaped. _The word sent another chill down her spine. What kind of life did Rufus actually have?

"I believe that... no matter what happens to the company, as long as the President, or his future heir, is alive, it will continue. But... if it goes to an outsider's hands, the company will fall." Tseng told her gravely. "I believe that the President will do a splendid job. He is capable of bringing Shin-Ra into greater heights. But..." he paused again, as if reconsidering.

"But?" she asked him.

Tseng looked at Tifa and looked truly conflicted. His forehead was creased, folded in deep lines Tifa had never thought would be there. The tilak shimmered faintly against the florescent light. "I have my doubts about his motivations. He intends to rule people by scaring them into submission." He shook his head. "I know he can do better than that."

Tifa chewed the inside of her cheek. "What are you getting at?"

"As his guardian, I can only do so much for my ward," Tseng said. "But you... can do what I can't, as his wife. Help him regain his humanity." He took a deep breath. "I wish I could save you from all these burdens, Miss Lockhart, but I am no longer his confidante. The President only sees me now as his employee."

Tifa wondered if she had actually heard the hurt in his voice. Tseng was asking her to mend Rufus, all the while complying to the deal? Her heart thudded heavily, painfully. How could she, when she herself was just as damaged? She couldn't possibly crack whatever walls he has up, and she wasn't so thrilled about it either. She was busy rebuilding her own defenses.

Suddenly, three quick raps on the door dispelled the heavy silence that had settled between them. "Yo, anyone in 'ere?" Reno's voice called out. He opened the door and stepped inside. "Missus, you're needed at the press room." The corner of his mouth was lifted, as if he was amused to address her that way. It unsettled her.

The Turk leader was quick to his feet while Tifa was comparably slower. A fresh tidal wave of terror crashed over her, making her knees a little weak. Elena was standing behind Reno, and she flashed Tifa an encouraging little smile.

"Are you okay?" she whispered as the four of them walked towards the press room. The two men had walked ahead. "You're pale."

"I'm alright," Tifa whispered back. "Just nervous."

"Ah, the press can be scary. But they won't be asking you hard questions. The President almost lost his temper a while back with one of them. Rude had to escort the man out." the young woman was trying to distract Tifa, but it was no use.

She felt like she was being led to her own execution.

* * *

All eyes were on her as she was ushered towards the podium. Curiosity burned in them, she knew, but she didn't dare meet anyone's eyes, fearing that they might see right through her. The cameras snapped pictures of her in quick succession, the journalists' cacophony was deafening. Tifa looked straight ahead, right at Rufus. He was smiling as he watched her make her way to him. Like a hunter gleefully anticipating his victim.

Tifa felt as though all the oxygen in the world couldn't fill her lungs. She felt like she was all alone in this sea of people. She wasn't in a situation where she could indulge herself with self-pity. She only had two options: to sink or to swim. She'd been swimming for her life ever since she had challenged Rufus. Seeing him standing in the podium now made her seethe with fresh, fiery rage. He was smiling so smugly because he thought he'd reigned her back in line, she was sure of it.

"It would have been nicer if you smiled," Rufus whispered when she finally reached him. He took her hand and squeezed. A warning.

Tifa frowned and reached up to straighten the lapels of his suit jacket. The gesture caused him to tense for a moment, and she smiled. "I would have, if you had walked with me."

Rufus chuckled lowly before offering his arm. It was not a gesture of reassurance. He was merely making sure that the press, and in turn the world, would see the rings on her hand.

Scarlet cleared her throat. Tifa glanced coolly at the senior executive and saw that Scarlet was doing her best not to scowl, or look their way.

"This ladies and gentlemen, is the beautiful woman I told you about earlier," Rufus said, leading her to face the sea of forgettable but very dangerous crowd. "My wife, Tifa."

Cameras snapped more rapidly and the press people were leaning closer towards Rufus. They were hungry for the story. They asked questions all at once, making it impossible for Tifa to understand anything. Let alone _think. _

An employee gave a member of the crowd permission.

"First of all, congratulations on your marriage!" the reporter said. He had pasty skin and wore an ill-fitting suit._ "_Quite a wonderful surprise. How long have you two been keeping this happy news?"

Rufus glanced down at her and flashed his cold-blooded smile. _Here we go. _"Two months," they replied almost at the same time. It startled Tifa, hearing her voice crash against his. Rufus seemed unaffected. He was looking right at the reporter.

"Why all the secrecy, President? Hadn't you just vowed that you'll be more open to the public?" another asked.

She saw his cheek lift. "I said I would be more open about the company's operations, not with my private life. Besides, I wanted to protect her."

_Protect her. _Tifa fought the urge to chew her bottom lip. What a good liar, she thought. She couldn't believe the tenderness Rufus had injected on his last sentence. It was a stark contrast to the coldness of his first statement. She felt his fingers playing idly on the back of her hand.

"Can you take us back to when you first met?" a new face she would forget immediately asked then, after the swift swoon from the crowd.

For a moment Tifa believed that she had heard something explode. But nothing had changed around her. Rufus's fingers were still dancing on the back of her hand.

"Yes, of course," Rufus answered coolly, before warming his tone. "Why don't you do the honors, sweetheart?"

She looked up at him from her lashes and gave a tight smile. "It was almost two years ago," she began. Her voice had risen slightly. She swallowed then took a quick breath. "during the Hardy Daytona party. I had gone with an office friend to keep her 'sane'."

"Yes, because company functions are dreadfully boring," Rufus murmured lowly, quickly. Only for her to hear. He grinned playfully, then chuckled. Panicking, she followed him and giggled. Their arms collided as they moved awkwardly in time with their laugh.

"Could you recall your first impressions on each other?"

Rufus tightened his arm and stole glances at her again. His brows were furrowed. They hadn't talked about this. For a moment Tifa thought they were doomed. But they wouldn't be. He was the king of liars. "I remember noticing her because she was the only one who hadn't come over to praise me or to greet me. I was pretty pissed, until I came face to face with her."

"Startling. He came from nowhere! I almost spilled my drink." Tifa improvised awkwardly, looking down the floor. She studied Rufus's brown wingtips, and her own shoes. Rufus was laughing, and the crowd was chuckling softly.

"What did the President say to startle you so much, ma'am?"

Crap. He wasn't really going to go and say that he'd been inviting her to his office for a quickie, was he? Tifa's breath got caught in her throat. "Er..." she started, but Rufus cut her off. "I told her that I wanted five minutes of her life," he said smoothly, "someplace else." Rufus leaned in to whisper to her, "You should look directly in the cameras, love." His breath fanned across her cheek.

She set her mouth into a thin line. "But I told him that I didn't have five minutes." It earned a fresh wave of more comfortable laughter.

"This woman outright refused me, and I was a little mad. No one ever did that before." He added, looking at her with an amused expression.

"So you pursued her, President? How, and how long did it take?" a new voice inquired.

Tifa looked sideways to where Elena was standing. Elena wasn't looking at her, she was watching the crowd with a blank, stoic face that Tifa was more accustomed to seeing on Tseng. At the back, Reno and Rude along with a handful of other Turks were standing guard. They were all like statues. Rufus patted her hand to bring her attention back to the front.

"It took me an agonizing two months to have her yes to dinner with me," Rufus said, his voice laced with disbelief and laughter. "She's the only woman that managed to keep me interested that long. I still wonder how she managed it." He was beaming down at her again. Tifa smiled back at him, trying to force down the bile that had risen to her throat. "The rest, I believe, we can leave as history," he ended slowly.

"What about the proposal, President Shinra, how did that come about?"

"How did he propose, ma'am?"

"Can we have a closer look at the rings?"

"Did you already have marriage in mind when you started dating?"

The torrent of questions caused Tifa to tighten her grip on Rufus's arm. Their tones were friendly and enthusiastic, but they sounded like barks to her. They were getting more and more voracious from every answer Rufus gave. _This is news is fresh meat, _they all seemed to think. They were like starved wolves, and she was their poor lamb. Rufus was the one baiting her, keeping her in place, for the wolves to lick their chops at.

She let out a giggly breath. "Of course," she said, offering them a better look at the finger-breaking rings. The diamonds glittered and dazzled everyone, especially the cameras. Rufus seemed to dance minutely, causing her own body to sway. He cleared his throat softly, telling her that he was going to talk.

"No... I didn't really have marriage in mind when we started going out." He answered, still swaying. "Neither of us did. We believed that we were far too young for that." He laughed clearly, elegantly.

A member of the media was beginning to get impatient. "When did you decide that she was the right lady, President?"

Rufus looked at her and grinned wickedly. She smirked right back at him. "Gradually," he said, lacing their fingers together. "It was a gradual business." He lifted the corner of his mouth. It was bad lie, Tifa thought, and he knew it. What kind of crap answer was that?

"Did you find it a very hard decision, Mrs. Shinra, when he asked?"

"How are you taking the changes, Mrs. Shinra? From being a fresh graduate from Midgar University, still trying to get the hang of the corporate world to becoming President Shinra's wife? It's a tremendous change, for someone who's much too young."

She gulped. They were asking her things that neither of them had prepared for beforehand. Rufus squeezed her hand and smiled tightly at her. She took a breath and tried to lift the corners of her mouth. Her voice was shaky and soft when she spoke. It wasn't how she had intended to sound at all. "It was a tough decision. I'm just 20 years old, and here he was, already asking me to marry him... there was so little time to think about it. " She squeezed his hand, and he grinned at the crowd. Rufus's body had tensed up. "But I think I'll be alright..." _Nope, I am so, so not alright with this. _

"You've been married two months. And you're currently working as his secretary, is that right?" a haughty voice asked.

Rufus laughed. "Yes, she is."

"Are you safeguarding your husband from potential mistresses, ma'am?" a voice asked jokingly.

She felt hot pinpricks scattering across her shoulder blades then spreading up her neck, then to her cheeks. Rufus raised his free hand to brush her cheek fleetingly. "You could say that," she answered breathlessly.

"We didn't know that you married. Was it a church wedding?"

They shook their heads. "No. It was a private civil wedding. Neither of us wanted to make a fuss out of it, and Rufus... well, his job's very taxing." Tifa answered. She wasn't lying this time. Rufus let out an amused breath before snickering. "Got that right," he whispered lowly.

"So does this mean that your trip to Costa del Sol is also your honeymoon?"

"Are the two of you already thinking about having a child? Given your husband's position I think it's one of the most important matters. An heir..."

She looked up at him and he met her eyes. Her fingers dug into his arm. His mouth was thin, but curved into a knowing smile. Her mouth felt like it was drier than the deserts surrounding Corel Prison and Cactus Island. Her stomach somersaulted. She tapped her forefinger on his hand. The beat of the taps was confused.

Rufus flicked his hair and said coolly, "I'd really love to have a son, but we're not in a rush..." His eyes shot down at her again and she managed to grimace.

"We hope to hear about it soon!" a voice shouted from behind. From the corner of her eye, Tifa saw Reno change his stance and take out his electro-magnetic rod.

"Yes, we're all very excited already!"

They were asked to pose for a few minutes longer, and the press conference was officially over.

As they made their way downstairs, Rufus kissed her cheek swiftly. A gesture meant for the cameras. Tifa smiled brightly at him, playing along. The company lobby was crowded with photographers and journalists who hadn't gotten a slot in the conference. Tseng calmly directed the nameless Turks through his earpiece to control the crowd.

* * *

The harsh afternoon sun bounced off the tin roofs and heated up the tarmac road. The heat had begun to permeate into the soles of Tifa's pumps. Scarlet's nauseatingly sweet perfume was blowing directly towards Tifa's direction. She felt the beginnings of a headache coming on as their group headed towards the waiting B1-Alpha. Rufus was waving to the onlookers watching from behind the airfield's chain link fence.

Once in the helicopter, Tifa let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes. Rufus had taken his place next to her. She felt his surprisingly cool hand caress her cheek, smelled his crisp cologne, and felt the light pressure of his body when he pressed against her. "Tired, baby?" he asked, his voice harboring a smug lilt. He trailed his hand down to her neck, then to her arm.

"My head's starting to hurt," she answered quietly.

"All those questions and press people must've exhausted 'er, huh! Gyaa haa haa!" Heidegger boomed from behind them.

Rufus let her head fall on his shoulder. Her breath got caught in her throat when he pressed his lips on her forehead. "If your guards had been more careful at handling the crowd outside then maybe she wouldn't be so tired now, would she?" he said tersely.

Heidegger spluttered. "They probably got too pushy or something! My instructions were clear to my men, President!"

"No... I really don't believe they were. They weren't supposed to get in the lobby."

Tifa felt as though her head would explode from the helicopter's noise.

"Poor young lady," Scarlet commented before huffing. Annoyed, Tifa burrowed her face deeper into the base of Rufus's neck, to block out the older woman's disgusting perfume. She felt Rufus's body tense beneath her, and it almost made her smirk.

"Don't worry, madame Shinra, we'll be in Costa del Sol soon." the pilot informed her.

In her ear, Rufus murmured, "Too much for one day, hm?"

She knew that he was no longer talking about the press conference and the lobby chaos. It made her head throb more painfully, causing her to wince. "My poor, poor baby," he said very quietly. She might not have seen it, but she knew that he was smiling. Wickedly, evilly. She crushed her head against his collarbone. His fingers dug into her arm painfully in retribution.

* * *

**Victoria Chrystallis's Puff:**

_I'm writing this while sitting in a rocking chair. So fun!_

_Sorry for the long wait! I kept scrapping the dialogues of Tseng and Tifa – I think I've revised the lines like, ten times. And the press conference questions too... I had to channel my inner would-have-been journalist, and that was very stressful, hahaha._

_Anyway, I also got held up because of two other reasons:_

_Reason no. 1_ – I am emotionally crippled because _fade_, one of my favorite bands, has officially begun their hiatus. (If you want to check them out, check out fadeTOKYO.) It was so thoughtful and nice of them to stream their final live performance for their fans overseas. So heartbroken right now. But I really hope they come back soon! They're on a league of their own, to be honest.

_Reason no. 2_ – I got sick. I actually still am.

_Such depressing reasons. Lol. _

_Okay, moving on..._

_You guys, I really love it when you review and suggest & ask about stuff. Like, it's really awesome when you do! I hope I answered your questions well in this chapter! Uh... did I make Tseng super out-of-character here, because he spoke too much?_

_Jhin_ – Thank you! About Tifa's hair, hmm... I prefer her having very dark brown hair, that reaches the middle of her back. Anyway, she fixed her hair in a French twist in the last chapter. :)

_Thank you to everyone who left reviews last time!_

_Thank you for reading! Have a nice day!_


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